


Cum Autem Ligna Non Loqui (When the Trees Don’t Speak)

by blanched



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Anxiety Disorder, Bisexual Adam, Bromance, Character Death, Child Abuse, Fluff and Angst, I'm Bad At Tagging, Love/Hate, M/M, Mental Health Issues, My First Work in This Fandom, Protective Ronan, Ronan Lynch is Bad at Feelings, Temporary Amnesia, adam is sad, ronan is a badass, we all cry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-15 03:29:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7205096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blanched/pseuds/blanched
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A non-magical AU where the boys meet and learn to live together at Aglionby. No magic, no dreaming, no psychics. Tells the sad story of Adam Parrish and his life as it spirals downward, with some unexpected help along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Period

       Adam was running late. Again. Mentally chastising himself as he flew down the front wooden steps of his double-wide, he grabbed his bike off the dusty ground and mounted it in one swift motion. He would have to make a 30-minute bike ride in 20 minutes. Just great.  
        _It’s only the first week of school_ , he thought as he raced down the dirt path to the street that looked as if it were a dead- end. _You can’t be late this many times within 5 freaking days._ He pedaled harder, thinking about the embarrassing day of school- the second day, no less- where he came into first period 15 minutes late, covered in sweat and dirt, his tie askew and his hair a living nightmare from the wind. He grimaced as he remembered the boy with the shaven head and a smile that could make children cry smirk as Adam sat in front of him. He remembered the boy whispering to him, “Nice look, fucker. Did you bike all the way from Hicksville, America?” He remembered stiffening, not sure whether this boy was picking a fight or just being an asshole. It was Aglionby, after all; he learned to always expect the latter.  
        Adam thought about this as the desolate farmlands of Henrietta blurred past him and morphed into the wealthy side; office buildings, car shops, and supermarkets streamed past him as he pedaled. After a rigorous 17-minute ride consisting of sweat, dirt, and maybe some tears, Adam rounded the street that led to the entrance of Aglionby, with homeroom just beginning. He thought he was making good time; the teachers only check for attendance at the end of homeroom, and homeroom lasted 10 minutes. Adam began to breathe a little bit easier and relaxed his posture on his bike from a Tour de France hunch to a paperboy slouch. He took one hand off the handlebars to fix his hastily done tie, and while doing so, almost died.  
        There was suddenly a great hiss in the road somewhere behind him like that of a giant balloon releasing air slowly. Then there came the awkward flopping of a flat tire slapping the asphalt, getting nearer and nearer. Adam glanced over his shoulder and quickly took a sharp right onto the grassy roadside as the most pathetic looking car Adam has ever seen screeched past him, the driver struggling to keep the car from spinning off-road. Adam, putting on the brakes and dismounting his bike, watched with a mixture of annoyance and pity as the car eventually rolled to an unsteady halt. The car- a gaudy orange Camaro that looked older than Adam’s parents- came to a stop about a hundred yards ahead of Adam on the tight shoulder of the road. A figure got out of the driver’s side and slammed the door shut in frustration, stalking over to the front right tire to gawk at the damage helplessly.  
        Adam glared at the driver, expecting an old man trying to get his kicks while he can, but all of his anger was soon replaced by surprise. It was his classmate…Dixon, was it…? Or was it Devon…? Adam couldn’t remember too well; but he did know that this boy and the shaven head menace were friends, and both the stars of first period English. All the more reason to be wary of this rich-kid.  
        Yet, for some reason, Adam found himself wheeling his bike over to his classmate and inspecting the damage from a small distance. This boy was so focused on his mangled tire that he didn’t notice Adam’s presence until he had to awkwardly clear his throat. Then the boy started, glanced up, and his worried face smoothed out into the cockiest and most antagonizingly calm expression Adam has ever seen. His classmate stood up and Adam- bitterly taking notice of his perfectly combed dark brown hair and his perfectly crisp uniform- pointed to the tire, “Do you have a spare?”  
        The rich boy looked confused for a second, then smiled a perfect toothpaste commercial grin and stuck out his hand to Adam.  
        “Adam, is it? I have a spare in the trunk, actually, if you want to laugh condescendingly at the likes of me attempting to change a tire.”  
        Adam found himself turning a furious shade of red, but he wasn’t sure if it was from embarrassment or anger. Boys like this one take everything they get for granted, and speak without thinking. Coming from their sort of background, they could probably just take another car out of their garage when something was wrong with their current one. They carelessly paid people like him to fix their pricey junk for them without a care in the world about how it’s actually done. Adam’s bike, covered in rust and dirt, suddenly became his enemy and he wanted to toss it onto the side of the road.  
        Instead of doing that, he simply shook the boy’s hand back- oh my god, that was a powerful grip- and mumbled, trying his best to kill the stupid southern accent, “I could change the tire for you, if you want me to.”  
        It was such a small thing to do- Adam learned how to change tires before he learned long division- he could have done it in 10 minutes, but this boy didn’t seem to know that. He acted like he was given a million dollars- although, what’s that to them? - and beamed at Adam with gratitude. Even though Adam decidedly disliked this boy, he couldn’t help but feel important- if just for a second, and then the obnoxious resting-smirk returned to the boy’s face. Adam mentally reprimanded himself, _What were you expecting? It’s not like everything else in this kid’s life isn’t going perfectly… why did you offer to help him? Let him be late and just go- your bike is there just-_  
        “You can change that? Oh wow, can you please? I’m really sorry if this makes you late but if we’re late to first period together maybe Mr. Brunson will go easy on us…” Adam started out of his dark thoughts enough so that he understood the irony behind those words. It didn’t matter who this boy was with; in less than a week of knowing him, Adam could tell that this boy was of the species that could get away with anything- he could easily miss the entire day and still be marked present.  
         Nonetheless, Adam nodded, went to the trunk of the hideous car, got the tire out and quickly changed it in front of the awestruck boy, who watched so carefully, Adam felt as if he were being tested. Within 15 minutes, the new tire was on, the old tire was replaced in the trunk and the boy was shaking Adam’s hand rigorously, thanking him over and over again.  
        “My name is Gansey, by the way, if you didn’t already know,” he said as he ducked down into the car. _Gansey? What kind of rich kid name was that?_ “You getting in?”  
Adam just stood there for a second, half- amused over the appropriate name this boy was given, half-not realizing what it was Gansey had asked him. Suddenly, he realized that Gansey was offering to drive him the rest of the way to school, even though it was less than a mile down the street. The thought was nice, in theory, but Adam vowed to never receive help from the likes of these boys. He gestured pathetically to his rusty bike and shook his head.  
          “With the tire and my bike, there will be no room. It’s fine though, the school’s only a little way away.” He blurted this out without thinking, and was pleased that he actually made a valid point. He even pushed it a little bit more by shrugging apologetically to Gansey and grabbing his bike from off the grass.  
        Gansey didn’t seem to notice Adam’s general air of not wanting to go, and completely misinterpreted everything he just said. Rather than considering letting Adam just bike to Aglionby, Gansey seemed to take it as Adam needed room for his bike. The boy unceremoniously got out of the driver’s seat, walked to the trunk, took out the tire, and tossed it onto the side of the road. Adam just stared at this tire, as it came to a slow stop in the grass, then at Gansey, realizing how so unlike his peers he was. Every other Aglionby boy would’ve left Adam in the dust in their expensive sport cars. But Gansey merely took the bike out of Adam’s chapped hands, set it in the trunk and adjusted it with ease so that it fit perfectly, then opened the passenger side door for Adam, who just stood, dumbstruck.  
         “C’mon, Adam, get in! I’ll just tell Mr. Brunson that you fixed my car for me when we return; he shouldn’t be too annoyed, but it would be best if we at least arrived together to make this story more believable.”  
        In a daze, Adam said the first thing that came to mind- which was always a bad idea when it came to him. With the tire still on his mind, he blurted out, “You just re-affirmed that all rich people hate the Earth."  
         Gansey paused and glanced over at Adam with an odd expression on his face. Adam became scared that he said the wrong thing, feeling the need to keep Gansey on good terms, and reprimanding himself for thinking so. Then, before Adam could worry too much about it, Gansey’s face relaxed into a great grin and he started to laugh- which of course was a melodic sound that captured Adam’s attention against his will. Gansey wiped his eyes of his non-existent tears, and slapped Adam on the shoulder good-naturedly, pushing Adam toward the orange death trap in front of him. Giving into peer pressure, Adam got into the piece of crap car, and Gansey ran around to the driver’s side and got in, seeming excited. The car coughed itself back to life and headed for the school, with Gansey talking nonstop at Adam about nothing and everything all the way.  
        First period was over by the time they arrived.


	2. Second Period

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically the boys get to Aglionby and meet up with the rest of their soon-to-be-squad in an unexpected way.

 

     Regardless of Gansey’s reassuring words, Mr. Brunson did not take too kindly to having his class skipped by two of his students. Well, at least not Adam. Upon arriving in the already-packed parking lot, Gansey insisted on searching for a good spot in the shade because “The seats in this car feel like molten lava when they get hot, Adam.” By the time they actually stepped foot in the main building, second period was well underway. Gansey had assured him throughout the car ride to the school that they would be able to just sneak to second period without campus security questioning them, but ‘Adam’ and ‘good luck’ never fit into the same sentence.

     Immediately after stepping foot through the main doors, none other than Mr. Brunson himself was strutting down the hallway in their direction. This wasn’t campus security- it was much, much worse. Don’t notice, don’t notice, don’t notice….

     “Hey!” He noticed. Adam felt his heart sink down to his dusty cheap leather shoes as Mr. Brunson stalked over toward the boys.

     “He doesn’t look very understanding, Gansey,” he muttered to the boy, who stood stock still as the English professor drew nearer. He peered out of the corner of his eye and saw that Gansey hadn’t even dropped his perpetual smirk.

_He’s not the one who needs to be worried here,_ Adam reminded himself. He had his own self to look after first.

      Mr. Brunson walked up to the boys, a deep purple vein clearly visible in the side of his bald forehead. His aging face- plus the mustache- reminded Adam of the Monopoly Man, and in any other situation, he might’ve laughed. But the anger in the teacher’s eyes took all humor out of the situation.

      “Ah, so you showed up just in time to miss my class, and my test, boys,” he seethed, “I see where your priorities lie in your education.”

      Adam shifted his weight and turned his eyes down to the marble floor. The floor perfectly summed up Aglionby on a whole: cold, beautiful, and made exclusively for the rich. He was an imposter among kings, a sheep purposefully dressed as a wolf to get himself ahead in life. The teachers saw right through him though- they knew his secret, and loathed him for it, he knew. They didn’t have to pretend to be nice to him in fear that a powerful family will withdraw their support from the school. Without money, one was without power, as Adam was entirely used to. And then there was his-

     “HEY!” a livid voice broke through Adam’s thoughts. He looked up, startled, and found Mr. Brunson glaring at him- his forehead vein more prominent and his face a deep shade of red. _Oh god,_ Adam thought in a panic, _Was he just talking?_

     Mr. Brunson looked ready to kill, or at least give out some mean detentions. Adam, in desperation, glanced once again at Gansey, who was already looking at Adam with some strange form of concern etched on his face. Or was it pity?

     That brought Adam back to his senses quickly. He didn’t know what was so piteous about him to this boy, and he didn’t want rich-kid pity. Adam set his jaw and looked back at Mr. Brunson, who was struggling to form a coherent sentence. Finally, the man managed to collect his thoughts.

     “I swear, you brats get more and more disrespectful as the generations go on! At least look at me when I talk to you, damn it! Were you even listening?! I thought you were a good kid, Parrish, but skipping my class and then disrespecting me?! I won’t be made a fool of by the likes of you, boy.” Mr. Brunson was just warming up; the fact that such a small problem made him so angry was a mystery to Adam, but he knew from experience when to keep his mouth shut around pissed off adults.

      “Gansey,” Mr. Brunson began after taking a deep breath. Adam heard how his voice had noticeably softened and he was sickened by it. “I wasn’t expecting this behavior out of you, lad. Your parents have contributed so much to this school; I would’ve expected you to make a greater effort.”

      “I’m very sorry, sir. It’s just that my car broke down this morning and Adam here helped me to fix it. He was extremely helpful to me and if he were not around, I probably would have spent all day trying to figure out how to fix it myself.”

     That, everyone in the room knew was a lie. Gansey would have called his shaven head friend, or his rich parents, or literally done anything else than actually sit there and try to do the peasant work that Adam grew up around. But it seemed to suffice; Mr. Brunson’s face softened and his vein sunk back into his temple- he even pat Gansey on the shoulder.

     “You shouldn’t be driving around in such an old car, Dick.”

     Dick?! Adam couldn’t help it. As Gansey nodded studiously at Mr. Brunson, who seemed contented, a snort escaped his lips and his hand flew up to cover his mouth. Gansey and Mr. Brunson both turned to Adam in minor surprise. Adam, realizing his mistake- of course now of all times is when he finds inappropriate humor funny- dropped his hand from his face, wiped his face clean of emotion and stared at his shoes, not trusting Mr. Brunson’s bipolar personality. However, sure enough, Mr. Brunson brought his full attention to him in that moment, and the glare on his face told Adam that he was done for.

      Aglionby was a school notorious for its favoritism among teachers, and Adam was not blessed enough to be any teacher’s favorite. He worked extremely hard and got top notch grades, but the teachers couldn’t see past his money- or, more accurately, his lack of it. Gansey, on the other hand, was everyone’s’ favorite, because of his money and his family’s money. Mr. Brunson’s face told Adam that he was nowhere near being his favorite- he was nothing to this man, and this man would not hesitate to let him know it.

     However, just as Mr. Brunson opened his mouth no doubt to say something extremely offensive, and crash echoed through the high-ceilinged building. Although it was hard to tell where it came from by sound, Adam had no trouble finding the scene of the distraction that saved his life.

      Just behind Mr. Brunson’s shoulder, a grand carpeted staircase led to a landing, which then branched off to the left and right into two more sets of elegant staircases that lead to the English and Math wings. It became clear as Mr. Brunson turned to the source of the noise that this exquisite staircase was currently being used for the most dignified of hobbies- cart-surfing.

     A janitor’s cart, with supplies flying sporadically out in every direction with each step it bumped down, was coming from the direction of the English wing- which was the left hand staircase. A boy was kneeling on the top of the cart with his hands in the air as if he were on a roller coaster. His tie- undone- flew off his shoulders and floated to the ground as he bumped along each step, spewing curses like there was no tomorrow. Adam glanced at Mr. Brunson as he watched the forgotten tie slowly make its way to the marble floor, the vein in his forehead expanding to a dangerous size. Adam looked back to his savior just as he crashed down onto the landing, head over heels and the janitor cart looking as if it had just lost a fight with a monster truck. This final crash, along with the corresponding curse words that followed it, echoed throughout the entire building as the boy rolled onto his knees. The boy quickly stood up and faced the small group on the ground floor, a grin on his face sharp enough to shatter glass. All at once, the three spectators yelled three different things at the source of the ruckus.  
      Gansey: “Ronan!”

       Adam: “You?”

     Mr. Brunson: “LYNCH!!”

      Ronan Lynch stood on the landing, scratches and all, like a god among men. His shaven head gave the impression of discipline, but any person with eyes could tell that discipline was one thing he didn’t have. His face was scratched up from his ventures and his skeleton grin announced his malice like a warning label. He was built like an athlete, but Adam knew this boy’s stance on sports first hand as he heard the shouted curses and insults Ronan threw at the jocks from across the campus grounds. His uniform, messed up from his fall, was clearly not tidy before he took off: his shirt wasn’t buttoned, his black tank top was showing, and his shoes he wore weren’t even the uniform shoes- unless the dress code changed suddenly to allow Vans. Nonetheless, he looked far more impressive and intimidating to Adam than anyone could under his circumstances. In front of him, Mr. Brunson’s neck was turning a darker shade of red by the second, and just when Adam thought he would explode, a small voice piped up from the top of the staircase leading to the English wing.

      “Shit, Ronan! That was a pretty epic roll at the end there but what if someone heard you and you would- oh shit, its Brunson!” A gaunt, pale boy slouched down the stairs to join Ronan, who still sneered down at the spectators, unflinching at Mr. Brunson’s seething anger. As the pale boy joined Ronan and gave him a fist bump, Mr. Brunson exploded, spit flying from his mustache.

      “LYNCH. CZERNY. HERE. NOW.” He seethed from between his clenched teeth. The pale boy and Ronan looked at each other, shrugged, then made their way down the marble floor, their steps echoing in the otherwise silent hall. Ronan snatched his tie from off the marble floor and slung it over his shoulder as he walked toward the small group. When they halted in front of Mr. Brunson, the pale boy seemed to notice Gansey for the first time.

      “Oh, hey Gansey. Where were you all day? You really shouldn’t be gone like that- you’re like, 94% of Ronan’s conscious.”

      Gansey shook his head in disbelief, “I was only gone for first period, Noah, it hasn’t even been that long.”

     Noah looked completely unconcerned, and instead shrugged and stuffed his hands into his pockets. All at once, Noah, Adam and Gansey turned to Mr. Brunson, who looked like the human version of a volcano. He was currently having a glare-off with Ronan, and didn’t seem to be winning. Clearly noticing his failure to intimidate the boy, Mr. Brunson turned sharply on his heel without a word and led the perpetrators to the direction of the Principal’s Office, mustache twitching, leaving Gansey and Adam both forgotten in the main hall.

     The two boys looked at each other briefly, then Gansey spoke up.

      “Uhm, I should probably just go with them, to make sure Ronan doesn’t say anything to land him somewhere worse than detention. Thank you again for fixing my tire, Adam. Your bike is still in the Pig- just come over to my car at the end of the day and I’ll give it to you, okay?”

      Adam nodded, not knowing what “the Pig” was, and Gansey took off in the direction of his friends after shaking Adam’s hand once more, leaving him alone, pondering over what the heck just happened.

      He had an insane stroke of luck there. Ronan Lynch, the shaven-head menace, had saved Adam’s Aglionby career by surfing on a janitor’s cart. Maybe that would make Mr. Brunson forget all about what happened between him and Gansey being late. Maybe Mr. Brunson would forget all about it and not give out punishments to him and Gansey. Although he and that boy Noah were going to be in a world of hurt for their fun, Adam couldn’t help but be relieved. He had worked so hard just to be in Aglionby; he didn’t want to even take the risk of being kicked out. Even still… Adam felt like he owed something to those two boys. He couldn’t just let them take the fall for something like that without a word.

       _Maybe they’ll be by Gansey’s car after school_ , he thought to himself. _I could thank them both then and there_.

     Ronan’s broken-glass grin pierced Adam’s mind and gave him second thoughts. _Would he even accept a thank you? He would probably go tell me to fuck off…_ Adam decided to cross that bridge when he gets there; right now, he needed to focus on the details of the Battle of Gettysburg for his second period history exam.

     Just as Adam collected his thoughts and pulled himself together, straightening his tie and running his fingers through his hair, however, the bell chimed from overhead.

      He just missed second period.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a pretty long chapter... listen, I know this isn't what you want to read about, but I promise I'm going to be getting to action soon! But when you get to the action, you're going to be wishing for these care-free chapters, trust me!


	3. Kavinsky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam bumps into a certain someone and then Ronan makes his appearance once again.

 

            Third period, which was normally blessed with the sounds of Ronan shouting curses at Noah in Latin, was deadly silent. None of the boys who left with Mr. Brunson in second period showed up, and Adam found himself actually concerned. He mentally kicked himself.

 _Why do you care about these guys?_ He asked himself while furiously conjugating Latin verbs. _It’s not like they purposely helped you out back there. It was just pure coincidence…_

            Regardless, Adam found himself looking at the door beside Mr. Schenck’s desk every few minutes in anticipation of the boys arriving with their usual we-rule-the-school air, but they never came. Third period came and went, and Adam contented himself with being able to see at least Gansey by his car at the end of the day. Fourth period couldn’t go by any slower.

…

            As the final bell of the school day rang, Adam grabbed his books from his desk and raced out of his classroom in the direction of the parking lot.

            As he was speed-walking through the lavished hallways of Aglionby, he was reminding himself of what Gansey’s car looked like and where they parked in the morning. The hideous shade of orange would stick in Adam’s mind until the day he dies, but he was struggling to remember where Gansey finally decided to park. He knew it was in the shade, but it was pretty far from the entrance and he wasn’t even sure if it was a student parking spot…

            Adam, still lost in thought, turned a corner and slammed into a much sturdier, much bulkier figure. He jarred suddenly at this unexpected and somewhat violent impact, and took a second to recover. Adam made a mad grab for his books as they slipped out of his hands, but gravity gave Adam a little “fuck you” and everything he had in his arms a second ago went flying in all directions. Adam gave a little groan and knelt to pick them up when he realized the object he crashed into was an actual living creature. The cause for collision was in fact the back of another student, who, by the looks of him, was squaring up for a fight, with his back still turned to Adam.

            _Oh jeez,_ Adam thought as he tried to catch a stray paper, _this scene literally can’t get any more cliché, can it?_

      It really couldn’t. The boy Adam ran into stiffened, then slowly turned around to face this scrawny punk who tried to pick a fight with him. Adam would’ve let out a bigger groan if he wasn’t too busy mentally kicking himself. Joseph Kavinsky, out of all people, had to be the one that fate body-slammed Adam into. Kavinsky, looked down at Adam, baring his teeth like fangs and taking a step closer to his newfound prey.  

       Joseph Kavinsky was the most terrifying person in Aglionby, rivaled only by Ronan Lynch himself. No one knew if Kavinsky and Ronan hated each other or were friends, but it honestly wouldn’t make a difference with the way they treat each other. Kavinsky was additionally probably the third wealthiest student in Aglionby, behind Gansey and Ronan. So naturally, Kavinksy took his money for granted and looked down upon anyone who wasn’t himself. This alone was grounds for Adam to dislike him, and for him to dislike Adam. He was the only student in all of Aglionby who could get away without wearing the uniform properly, as even the teachers feared him to a certain degree. Currently, he was holding his Aglionby sweater in his clenched fist and wearing a camouflage tank that reminded Adam of Ronan’s black tank that he wore under his uniform. His scrutinizing gaze made Adam uncomfortable, giving him the feeling that Kavinsky could see right through Adam’s charade; this boy must see that Adam is wearing a uniform a few sizes too big, he must see the dirt caked under his nails, he must see his dusty, hunger-torn face and know that he was a fake. Adam took note of all the other boys walking around him and all of his belongings, pretending to be blind. How typical. These bastards would be the first to cause a scene like this, but once one happens on its own they want nothing to do with it, because of who was involved in it. Pathetic.

       “Well, well, well,” Kavinsky sneered, almost like a song, in time to his footsteps nearing Adam, who was still on his knees with half of his books in his arms. “Did this scrawny little fucker want to say something to me?”

       Adam resigned himself with his unnegotiable fate and squared his shoulders. He gently placed his collected books onto the floor again and rocked himself back onto his feet, facing Kavinsky. He took note that he was a few inches shorter, and many, many pounds lighter. If this resulted in a fist fight, Adam could quite possibly end up dead, so he had to talk carefully.

       “Naw, Kavinsky,” Adam cringed as his Henrietta accent escaped, “I just couldn’t see you there, with your camouflage shirt and all.”

       By this time, the hall had cleared apart from Adam and Kavinsky, so Adam assumed that Kavinsky wouldn’t try as hard to keep up the tough guy appearance, so he thought that cracking a joke would make it easier to escape. Oh, was he wrong. Apparently, Kavinsky’s tough guy act wasn’t an act at all.

       Without even cracking a smile, Kavinsky snatched the front of Adam’s uniform and shoved him back into a row of lockers. It wasn’t exactly powerful, however, and Adam stayed on his feet, recovering quickly.

       “Who the fuck do you think I am, you little teacher’s pet?” the boy snarled as he cracked his knuckles, “I’m not one for dumb-ass games.”

       Frankly, Adam had no idea why the heavens were so intent on making this the worst day of his life. Kavinsky is the second person that Adam wronged slightly, who made a huge deal out of pay back. Except Kavinksy wasn’t a random English teacher; he didn’t have to abide by fair rules to get results- there were no rules for Kavinsky, and there never would be.

       The dial of the locker behind him pressed painfully into the small of Adam’s back, reminding him of a similar scenario with a kitchen table pressed into his back and a much older man holding his collar. He stared directly into Kavinsky’s eyes, in a silent attempt to show him that he wasn’t scared of him, but Kavinsky was like a wild bear: direct eye contact seems to provoke them.

       “What the hell are you glaring at?” he growled and he shoved Adam harder against the locker. The dial dug even deeper into Adam’s back and there was a slight tingling down his spine upon impact.

       “I’m not trying to pick a fight with you, Kavinsky,” Adam muttered, uncomfortable with Kavinsky’s murderous face a few inches from his. “I just wanted to get out of here, and I guess I just wasn’t paying attention. My fault, I’ll admit that.”

       After saying this, Adam heard some footsteps echoing down the hallway from which he previously came. Thank god, maybe someone will stop this nonsense. Although, with Kavinsky, maybe not. Along with the footsteps came a murmured song, the lyrics undecipherable from the distance. However, Kavinsky appeared to not have heard the approaching footsteps as he shouted in Adam’s ear.

       “Bullshit!”

       Adam felt Kavinsky’s grip switch from his collar to his shoulders, and in an instant, he was thrown to the ground by Kavinsky’s feet. It was completely painless to Adam, who had experienced much worse before, but it annoyed him. Would he have to end up getting into a fistfight with this kid? He swiftly rolled from his back to his knees and stood up cautiously, unaware if the fight had already begun. The two boys eyed each other up, preparing for a fight.

       Just before either of them could make their move, someone turned the corner, singing a song to themselves as they strolled through.

       “Squash one, squash two, squash-“

       Upon seeing the two boys squared up to fight amongst the worksheets and papers that littered the floor, the new spectator stopped in their tracks and gazed at the sight before them. Kavinsky whirled around to face the newcomer, and Adam took the opportunity to glance over at them as well.

        Unbelievable. Ronan Fucking Lynch. Again.

       “Hey, Ronan. We still on for my party this weekend? Tomashcev says he can sneak some cocaine from his folks., and I got at least 5 kegs laying around in my- “ Kavinsky began.

       “What the fuck is going on here?” Ronan interrupted.

       Kavinsky glanced back at Adam as if forgetting he was even there. “Oh yeah, just having some fun with this fucker over here. Why do you care, you his boyfriend?”

       “Shut the fuck up, K. Get out of here before I bash your head in.”

       Kavinsky chuckled good-naturedly, as if Ronan had just said a good joke. Adam stood by, silent, not knowing what the hell was going on.

       “Alright, Ronan… you win, you can take your girlfriend home,” Kavinsky said, gesturing to Adam and his belongings. Adam, who was getting increasingly angry, was glanced over by Ronan, who gave Kavinsky a nice hand gesture and slouched against the nearest locker.

       Kavinsky somehow understood the meaning behind Ronan’s actions and took it as his cue to leave. He spun back around to Adam and slouched by him, bumping his shoulder as he went. And then, he was gone.

       Adam looked back at Ronan, who was still slouched up against a locker, looking at him.

       “Did he hit you?” came a quiet question, one that Adam was not expecting at all. It rather took Adam aback, and he just stared at Ronan, who pushed himself off of the locker and bent down to pick up some of Adam’s homework. Then, suddenly, his question reached Adam’s brain after a few seconds.

       “No, he didn’t hit me… why do you care?” he couldn’t help but add the last part out of his own curiosity.

       Ronan stopped collecting Adam’s papers and looked up at Adam, his face hardening before Adam even realized it had softened.

       “I hate Kavinsky,” he responded shortly, “Any excuse to punch him myself is kindly taken advantage of.”

      Adam didn’t respond, lost in thought as he bent down to pick up the rest of his papers. Ronan watched, holding a small stack of notes in his arms. After a few seconds of silence, as he watched Adam stack the last of his papers in his arms, he slapped his small pile of notes on top and commented, “You have a lot of fucking work for the first week, you know that right?”

      Adam sighed, “I know, but I worked really hard to get into this school, so unlike some people I do need to try to get good grades.” This last bit was intended to be a weak insult, but Ronan seemed to take it as a compliment. He grinned, full of pride.

      “Haven’t done a single assignment since I got to this joint 2 years ago, and I’m still going strong,” he grinned a smile of glass.

      “Define ‘strong’,” Adam mumbled and turned to walk out to the parking lot.

      As he went, he heard a barking laugh from behind him and a few heavy footsteps that fell in line with Adam’s.

      “So were you really going to fight Kavinsky, you sassy little shit?” Ronan questioned as he walked side in side with Adam.

      Adam thought about it for a second, then nodded slowly. “I think if you didn’t come by, I would’ve had to.”

     “Good thing I came by then,” Ronan responded, “Kavinsky could easily whip your scrawny ass.”

     Adam stayed silent, but Ronan didn’t seem to expect an answer. Instead, he flung his hands behind his head and mumbled to himself, “Squash one, squash two…”

      After reaching the parking lot and looking around for Gansey’s car, Adam heard a honk from behind him. There, pulled up the god-awful Camaro that Adam sat in 6 hours earlier, with Gansey waving from the driver’s seat.  Ronan gave a small nod in response and pat Adam on the shoulder, “See you soon, ass hat,” then stepped into a pure black BMV that was parked nearby. As Adam neared the Camaro, Gansey stuck his head out of his window.

      “Change of plans, Adam.” He called, “Don’t grab your bike just yet. Nino’s Pizza, on me. Hop in!”

      Adam stared at the hideous death machine for a few seconds, then asked, “Why?”

      Gansey laughed- a perfect laugh that made Adam happy despite his confusion- “Because I owe you one, Adam!”

      Whether it was Gansey’s infectious attitude, or the high feeling Adam still had from his almost fight with Kavinsky, or something else entirely, Adam found himself nodding his head and throwing all of his school stuff in the trunk along with his dusty bike.

      He opened the rusty door of the Camaro, and dropped himself into the passenger seat, just like he had done earlier that morning.  Gansey grinned a wide, toothy smile that seemed quite boyish for his behavior to Adam, and put his car into drive. Ronan’s black BMV swerved ahead of Gansey’s Camaro before they even began to move, however. Noah had somehow appeared in the passenger seat, and both were staring out toward Gansey, Noah throwing up a peace sign and Ronan throwing up a gesture much less dignified. Gansey just sighed deeply and watched as the BMV sped up and swerved out of the Aglionby parking lot.

      “I swear, those two are going to get themselves killed one day,” he said under his breath, then turned to Adam expectantly. “Are you ready to go?”

      Adam took one look back at the school, where he just experienced the worst day of his Aglionby career, then looked back at Gansey’s eager face, a face that gave Adam the feeling that nothing could possibly go wrong with a guy like him around. He took the place of God, he controlled every aspect of life with perfect ease. Adam found himself trusting Gansey more than he has ever trusted any of his friends before… not that Gansey was his friend, of course.

      “Sure,” Adam responded after a brief pause. “Let’s roll.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this chapter started out strong, then went to shit at the end. I was gonna combine this one with the next one to make it more interesting, but honestly that would've been hella long. Sorry this is late too, I have guests over and its hard to write this when I'm crawling into bed at 2 in the morning.


	4. Nino's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys all meet up at everyone's favorite hangout!

     Adam had been to Nino’s two times in his life before he walked through the front door with Gansey. The first time was when he was 5 and his grandma had visited Henrietta for the first and final time. She had taken him as her special treat and let Adam even get a milkshake while they were there. His grandmother had tried to convince him to live with her while she was there, and Adam couldn’t figure out why at the time. Now, all these years later, Adam sincerely wished he took her up on her offer.

     The second time wasn’t such a pleasant memory.

     When he was 11, his father was trying to get a job for an auto repair shop that has long since spread across the state. His father decided to sweet-talk his way into the job by taking the manager out to dinner in a piteous attempt to earn favor in the application process. For some reason, Adam’s father thought it would be harder to refuse a man with a family, so he brought Adam and his mother out. Even at such a young age, Adam knew this wasn’t a nice family outing, because the Parrish family never went out, and they certainly were never nice. The dinner itself wasn’t awful in particular; it only remains a prominent memory because of the aftermath. Unsurprisingly for Adam, yet shockingly for his parents, Robert Parrish did not get the job he so desperately desired after all their tactics of bribery. Adam’s hospital bills after that day did not help the financial needs of the Parrish household, but Robert Parrish refuses to ever take responsibility; it is always something Adam did wrong, instead. Adam wishes he could walk through the front doors of Nino’s and see his grandmother in the corner booth where she gave Adam her proposal and take her up on it.

     However, today as Adam walked through the doors side by side with Gansey, the corner booth was filled with other horribly familiar faces.

     “Oh, Adam,” Gansey tapped Adam on the shoulder as he strutted (Adam shuffled) to the corner booth, “I believe you have already met my friends Ronan Lynch and Noah Czerny, seeing as today we just could not seem to escape each other.”

     Noah nodded to Adam absently and went back to his paper snake while Ronan didn’t react at all to the two newcomers.  He instead gazed right out the window, where Adam could see the shiny black BMV that he and Noah arrived in. Adam couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy when he looked at Ronan’s car; a shiny new car, something he long ago learned to never even dream of. He barely had a bike that functioned properly, much less a car. Speaking of his bike-

     “…Gansey,” Adam started reluctantly, “If it’s not too much to ask I actually have to do something in a little bit. Do you think I could just take my bike out of your car and go now?”

     Adam didn’t realize how pathetic he sounded at the time, but when Ronan’s head snapped around to gaze at Adam with an expression Adam couldn’t place his finger on, he knew he made a mistake. Gansey looked a little crestfallen at Adam’s request, but it was Ronan who ended up speaking up.

     “Where do you have to be this early after school?”

     Adam panicked a little bit under Ronan’s gaze. “I have to work.”

     That was his first lie. Adam didn’t have work today as his manager called out sick and didn’t trust Adam enough to leave him in charge. Ronan seemed to catch it, which of course was impossible, but Adam was paranoid. Ronan narrowed his eyes at Adam and shook his head slightly.

     “And after all the shit Noah and I went through for you today, you could at least have a slice with us…”

     He was guilt-tripping Adam, and Adam knew it, but with a pouty Gansey to his left and an intimidating potential- criminal sitting down in front of him, Adam didn’t have many options.

     “Fine,” Adam muttered and slid into the booth perpendicular to Ronan. Gansey grinned and said something that Adam didn’t hear because he was too busy mentally yelling at himself. He couldn’t have been any stupider if he tried. He literally trapped himself in a booth with a bunch of strangers that don’t want him to leave and could be potentially dangerous and they seem to be too inquisitive…

     “I can only stay for an hour or so, “ Adam blurted out as Gansey settled into the booth beside him. “I have to be h- at work by 5.”

     Gansey looked a little bummed out by this, but didn’t say anything. Noah looked up from his paper snake and nodded absently. But Ronan was staring right at Adam like he already knew everything about him. He looked like he had a question on his mind, but Adam spoke again to change the subject before it got too out of hand.

     “So about today…” All he had to do was start the conversation and Adam knew he would be saved. Noah, apparently becoming disinterested in his soggy snake, looked up from it once again and grinned broadly from Gansey to Adam, as if they were his eager audience.

     “It was so much fun!” He exclaimed, “Honestly, Gansey without you there it was the best morning ever.”

     Adam saw Gansey frown briefly at Noah from the corner of his eye, then turn to Ronan, “Where the heck has your conscience gone, Ronan? Were you planning to go cart-surfing today, or was it just a spontaneous idea you thought of when you realized I wouldn’t be there to stop you?”

     Ronan grinned in his shark-like way that made Adam seem like he was a piece of meat instead of a classmate. He didn’t know how Gansey could take that unflinching; he felt like crawling under the table and it wasn’t even directed at him.

     “Gansey boy, like you could stop me if you tried,” Ronan sneered. As he spoke, the air around the table seemed to drop in temperature; Noah stopped smiling, Gansey went still as he looked at Ronan, and Adam felt the chill from Ronan’s words into his very core. The table went deathly silent as Ronan stared unflinchingly at Gansey. A ball of anxiety rose in Adam’s chest as he took in the situation; from experience he knew that such tense settings could only lead to violence if left alone. As much as he hated it, he had to interfere.

     “Well, thank you,” he found himself almost whispering. Immediately, Adam knew he fixed it; Noah put on a slightly nervous smile, as he looked at Adam, Gansey snapped out of whatever daze he was in, and Ronan looked to Adam with an expression that seemed to be a mixture of surprise and apprehension. Such an expression was strange to see on the face of Ronan Lynch, and Adam decided it looked a lot better on him than his perpetual scowl. Adam mused for a moment that he would like to see that expression on Ronan’s face more. However, Ronan quickly recovered and leaned over as if to whisper a secret to Adam.

     “Sorry to ruin your pride,” Ronan said in a stage whisper, “But our fun had nothing to do with saving your asses from Brunson.”

     “I know,” Adam spoke back directly to Ronan, who hadn’t leaned away. “But you could have easily thrown us back under the bus and had us all taken to the office.  But you didn’t. And for that, I’m thanking you.”

     The table got quiet after Adam spoke. Gansey and Noah seemed to be watching Ronan closely for a reaction, maybe to interfere if he reacted violently. Instead, Ronan just slowly backed away and leaned back in the cushions of the booth, crossing his arms over his chest in a bored way.

     Gansey took this as a positive sign and his star-studded grin returned to his face before Adam even realized it was gone.

     “Speaking of which”, Gansey turned to Noah to ask, since Ronan was clearly finished with the conversation. “After Brunson told me to wait in the hallway, I didn’t get to hear what you guys got. How’s the damage?”

     Noah counted off the punishments on his fingers in an unconcerned and frankly unimpressed way, like reading off a grocery list. “We got a week of detention, a warning for suspension, calls home to family, and a hell of a mouthful from Brunson.”

     Adam admired the way he took these punishments in such a detached way; he would’ve been in shock if he had to go through what Noah and Ronan had.

     “Does this happen to you guys a lot?” he couldn’t help but ask. Noah looked ready for a cheeky response but Ronan spoke up instead. “Define a lot.”

     Adam considered that for a bit, “How many times has something like this happened to you last school year?”

     “Hmmmm… what do you think, Noah? Eight, maybe?”

_“Eight?”_

     “Yeah, somewhere in that ballpark…”

     “You guys are insane.”

     Ronan leaned forward once again in interest and looked directly into Adam’s eyes. Adam was hell-bent on keeping eye contact with him to show him that he wasn’t afraid, but something about him just made it nearly impossible. After what felt like five minutes, Ronan grinned and broke the mini staring contest.

     “Yeah, and look whose eating pizza with us.”

     As if on cue, a pizza was dropped down in the center of the table that Ronan and Noah must have ordered before Gansey and Adam arrived. The conversation was interrupted and Adam couldn’t have been more relieved. He looked up at the waitress to thank her and found his words stuck in his throat. The waitress couldn’t have been taller than 5 feet, even in her beaten up combat boots. She wore the Nino’s T-shirt over a dress that looked like it had been a table cloth at some point. Her short black hair was pinned back in a hundred different ways with a series of colorful clips.

 _Cute,_ Adam thought to himself.

     But then, without a word, yet a noticeable glare, the cute little waitress left the table and went back into the kitchens. Adam snapped out of his thoughts to see that Gansey was also staring inquisitively at the kitchen door, Noah was digging in with no shame, and Ronan was watching Adam carefully.

     “What?” Adam asked as he grabbed a slice of pizza.

    Ronan narrowed his eyes slightly and shook his head without a word, grabbing himself a slice as well.

…

     The next couple of hours passed in a blur for Adam. He remembered smiling a lot, which surprised him, but he couldn’t exactly remember what was so enjoyable for him, just eating pizza with a couple of classmates. He remembered talking a little, but listening a lot, which was how he liked it. Whether it was listening to Gansey’s insane conspiracy theories, Noah’s stories that may or may have not been real, or Ronan’s sarcastic comments, Adam found himself actually enjoying his time with them. Well, he did enjoy his time with them. Until he looked over his shoulder and caught a glimpse out of the window.

     The sun was setting.

     Wait. No. No, no, no.

     Adam closed his eyes and blinked a few times to make sure that he wasn’t seeing things.

     Oh god. No, no, no.

    Adam spun around back to the boys, who were lounging without a care in the world as Adam had a panic attack. The first one to notice his expression was of course, Ronan.

     “Dude,” Ronan started, a confused look settling over his face, “You see a ghost or something?”

     Gansey and Noah turned to Adam as well, looking at his distressed face to his hands that were clenching the edge of the table.

     Gansey was the first to respond.

     “Adam?” he asked carefully, unsure how to approach the situation.

     Adam turned to him, trying hard to maintain a semi-normal expression.

     “What time is it?”

     He was amazed at how steady his voice was, but Adam knew he wasn’t fooling anyone.

     Gansey looked at his watch and said, “6:21” Then, he seemed to realize what this meant. “Oh god, did we make you miss work? God, Adam, I’m really sorry!”

     “I need to go right now.” Adam stood up from the booth and Gansey scurried out to let him past.

     “Yeah, sure, of course! I can drive you to work, or home, or wherever you have to be,” Gansey offered sincerely, putting a hand in Adam’s shoulder.

     Adam internally panicked. There was no way he was letting Gansey see his home. Oh god, his home. His parents. His _father_.

     “ _No_.” His voice sounded rough, even to him, but Adam didn’t have time for the niceties. He hastily looked from a worried Gansey to the two other boys still seated in the booth. They had both sat up since Adam’s little outburst; Noah was staring wide-eyed at Adam, while Ronan narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Adam brushed them off and faced Gansey again, who was looking concerned.

     “No, I’m sorry, Gansey. I just need my bike, don’t let me get in the way.”

     “You won’t get in the way!” Gansey started, “Anyway, we all should be getting home and starting on _homework_.” He aimed that last part of this statement toward the two seated at the booth.

     “I just need my bike.” Adam repeated.

     Gansey looked back at him, part confused and part crestfallen.

     “Come on, Adam, it’ll go faster if you just let me drive you home…”

     Adam couldn’t explain it to them. He couldn’t put this pressure on his new… friends. Not now. Not so soon. Not ever.

     Luckily, Ronan spoke up. “Just give him his fucking bike, Dick.”

     Gansey bristled at this statement, and glared at Ronan, but then turned to see Adam’s pleading face and caved.

     “Alright, come outside, I’ll give you your bike.”

     Gansey led the way to the front doors of Nino’s, and Adam followed until he passed by the hostess stand. He suddenly remembered his manners, even in a time of crisis like now. Nearly kicking himself, Adam reached out of his back pocket and took out a five-dollar bill. He quickly turned around and jogged back to the table where Ronan and Noah were still lounging. Adam all but threw his money at Ronan’s face with a short, “For the pizza,” before he was out the front door.

     Gansey had already reached his Camaro and was struggling to dislodge Adam’s rusty bike from the back. Adam jogged over to help, and together they managed to free the bike in one piece. Adam was out of time and he knew it, but he turned to Gansey and stuck out his hand to the confused and concerned boy.

     “Thank you, Gansey. I had a lot of fun tonight.” Gansey shook his hand meaningfully but Adam didn’t give Gansey any time to reply before mounting his bike and taking off back to his home, where he knew his father was waiting.


	5. Home, Shit Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay this is a pretty rough chapter.... I didn't have much fun having to re-read it while checking for errors. So if you want to know...
> 
> WARNINGS: ABUSE, CHILD ABUSE, CURSING
> 
> I'm really sorry in advance about the way this chapter goes. I haven't written a scene like this before with limited dialogue so if it's confusing to any of you, please just let me know!
> 
> Thank you all so much, and enjoy!

 

     The sun was dipping low over the tree tops as commuters headed home to their families for a nice dinner. As Gansey and his friends collected their belongings and headed back to Gansey’s place. As the cute little waitress collected her paycheck and began her walk home.

     As Adam pedaled as hard as he could down the highway.

 _I can’t believe you let time slip that quickly!_ He told himself furiously, _You think you make friends for one second and suddenly all responsibility and brains that you have just get tossed out the god damn window!_

     The closer he got to his home, the further he wanted to be from it. As he continued his tirade down the shoulder of the highway, he adjusted his wrist to see the time on his watch. Adam found himself sickened by how late it got. He was still at least 10 minutes away from his road, and it was already 6:40.

     He missed dinner. His father would be furious. His father would be drinking. His father…

     A car honked as it swerved around Adam, and broke him from his dark train of thought.

     Adam let his mind wander instead to Gansey, Noah, and Ronan. His potential new friends- friends that he knew he could never get too close to. Friends that must never learn the full true story behind Adam Parrish.

      Gansey seemed to have his entire life figured out. He was going places- places far, far away from Henrietta. Gansey radiated money, but once one got to look beyond that, he was forever curious. His eyes were constantly filled with wonder and questions. A mind like Gansey’s did not fit in with the stereotypical aristocratic pigeon-hole, and Adam didn’t think Gansey wanted it to. He thought again of his smile, which at first appeared to be condescending, but now Adam thought of it as more of a tentative smile; a smile unsure if it is welcome, but grateful for its company. Gansey was popular in Aglionby as a different person completely than when he was with a small group of friends. Adam found he enjoyed this new version of Gansey more than he ever thought he would.

     Noah Czerny was similar to Adam in so many ways, Adam wondered if he could read minds. He never talked much, but he observed everything. He was wise beyond his years, even if he never drew attention to himself. Something in his eyes made him look decades older than his actual age, and it made Adam wonder what caused him to be that way. Adam considered the possibility that Noah knew more about the other boys than he let on. The way he seemed to be responsible and wise, yet going along with Ronan for cart-surfing down the main staircase of Aglionby made Adam wonder why this peculiar boy with his white blonde hair and his dark, ancient eyes would ever hang out with his eccentric friends. There was certainly more than meets the eye when it came to Noah, and perhaps that is what was so intriguing about him to Adam.

     And then Ronan. Ronan Lynch, enemy of everything. His personality was enough to make children cry and plants to shrivel, but even he wasn’t what everyone assumed he was. Adam, prior to meeting him, thought of him as Kavinksy’s bitch, or Kavinsky was his bitch. Or whatever. Either way, he considered Joseph Kavinsky and Ronan Lynch to be practically the same type of person. But in reality, they were two sides of the same coin. Adam couldn’t put his finger on Ronan Lynch, but he knew he was different. Whether it was in a good or bad way, Adam was dead-set on finding out for himself. He wanted to get to know the Ronan Lynch he saw in the small instant Ronan dropped his guard while eating pizza. He wanted to know the Ronan who didn’t sneer all the time, or narrow his cold eyes. He wanted the Ronan with the big, confused eyes and the almost-smile that he gave Adam when he retorted his insults. Adam wanted to see Ronan Lynch smile, but not sarcastically; he wanted to see true happiness leak onto the face that struggled to remain desolate of all emotion save anger and contempt. He wanted to be the cause of genuine happiness for Ronan Lynch.

     But first, he would have to somehow find his way out of his current situation.

…

     After taking side road after side road, Adam watched in dread as the entrance to the dirt path that was his neighborhood neared closer and closer. He wouldn’t be able to talk his way out of being this late, especially since his parents weren’t supposed to know about his secret third job at the auto repair shop by Aglionby- which is where he would’ve been tonight if his boss asked him to. He wouldn’t be able to explain his absence without either saying he was with friends or at work, both of which would only make his father angrier. Lying was never an option. Robert Parrish saw through all lies, and showed no mercy in punishing a lying tongue. Adam learned long ago to never tell his father a direct lie, a painful- yet effective- lesson.

     Taking a deep breath, Adam turned down the dirt path to his home. By this time, the sun was almost completely down, and Adam struggled to read the hands on his watch. 6:58. Shit.

     Adam knew he was screwed as soon as he stopped his bike in front of his double-wide. Every light inside the trailer was on, making his home look like a beacon compared to the other dozen darker trailers that were in the area. Within the house, Adam saw the dark silhouette of his father pacing back and forth, throwing his arms up in the air as he no doubt ranted to Adam’s mother. Adam gently placed his bike on the ground to take his eyes away from the scene, and looked up to find a small face in the window staring right at him. His mother gazed at him from the window of their double-wide with an expression that wasn’t short on contempt and far lacking in the typical motherly feelings such as pity, relief, love, or any of that shit. That never existed in the Parrish household and never will, another lesson Adam learned to deal with. Adam couldn’t hear the words that were being said inside, but he saw her lips move. He saw his father stop. He saw his father look out the window.

     Adam looked down immediately.

     The front door of the Parrish double- wide blew open an instant later as Robert Parrish pushed his way through it in a rage. The hinges made a loud crying noise as the door almost broke loose. Adam still didn’t look up, but he heard the footsteps that boomed down the steps to the dirt. Adam listened as boots crunched against gravel toward him.

       One, two, three, four, five, six, seven.

      Seven strides from the steps to Adam’s position.

      There was a pause, an awful pause, where Adam could only see his father’s boots planted on the gravel in front of him, and he could only hear his father’s ragged, angry breaths- breaths that reeked of alcohol. Then came the fist.

     The first punch is always more of a sound than a feeling. Adam heard his father’s fist on his left cheek, but he really didn’t feel the bruise that was no doubt immediately forming. All he knew was that he couldn’t show pain. Not to his father.

     Adam staggered back from the force of the first punch and struggled to maintain his footing. Robert Parrish seemed to be angered by the fact that his first hit wasn’t strong enough, then decked another hit to the side of Adam’s head.

     There was a moment of pure blackness, of blissful darkness before Adam fully came to his senses again. He was on his side on the gravel before his father, not remembering his fall, but he saw out of the corner of his eye as Robert Parrish looked down at his pathetic son with nothing but hatred. Adam briefly saw his mother in the doorway to this house, but he blinked again and she was gone. Robert Parrish was yelling at Adam, but Adam didn’t hear him until he received the first kick to the ribcage. Then, all sound seemed to explode in Adam’s head as his brain caught up from its delay.

     “You little piece of shit!” his father shouted, spit flying from his mouth. “We have the kindness and decency to send you to this fancy-ass school, with your fancy-ass friends, and this is how you repay us?! You little fucker!”

     Another kick was delivered to Adam’s ribcage, but Adam could barely feel the pain. He only felt confusion. His father didn’t sound like the problem was his being late to dinner. It sounded like there was something else to it. He wouldn’t’ve gotten this drunk over being late. Adam tried to speak, but couldn’t catch his breath fast enough. Another kick was sent to Adam’s stomach, but Adam blocked it with his forearms. He allowed himself to catch his breath quickly before his father reared up for another attack and managed to get out, “I don’t understand…”

     “SPEAK UP, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!” his father screamed, and pulled Adam up into a kneeling position by his hair. Adam allowed his body to be jerked into the upright position, and then spoke again, barely a whisper.

     “What did I do?”

     This was the wrong thing to say. With a growl of rage, Robert Parrish let go of his son’s hair and kicked him right in the chest, sending Adam flying onto his back, staring up at the distant and cold stars. All the air in Adam’s lungs left with the kick delivered, and Adam found himself gasping for breath. The distant stars blurred, reminding him that he was too far away for their grace to spare him. Adam hated the stars.

     He felt a heavy weight press down on his chest, which made trying to catch his breath all the more impossible. Once his vision cleared, he saw his father’s face a few inches away from his, eyes full of anger and pure hatred- all directed right at Adam. Robert Parrish had his knees in the dirt on either side of Adam and was gripping each of his shoulders tightly and painfully.

     “What did you do?!” he spat, grip tightening around Adam’s shoulders. Spit flew from his lips and landed on Adam’s cheek as he spoke. “Why don’t you ask that to the fucking call I got from your rich- ass school about you being a disrespectful brat, huh? Or the fact that you showed up late to school? Or what about you missing fucking dinner and making me and your mother wait for your ungrateful ass to come biking home?!”

     Adam’s heart sank in his oxygen-deprived chest. Mr. Brunson didn’t forget about Adam after all. He didn’t forget about him being tardy, and apparently he didn’t forget about Adam talking back to him in the main building of Aglionby. If there was no way he could talk his way out of being late to dinner, there was even less of a chance to talk his way out of this one. Adam’s dad knew it too, the way his lip sneered down at Adam’s heartbroken face.

      Adam closed his eyes for a moment, wanting to so badly just sink into the dust around his body and never emerge again. His life was crumbling down around him in one instant. His father would have given him one hell of a beating for being late to dinner, as he knew from experience, but this was much, much worse than being late. Mr. Brunson actually gave his father the fuel he needed to finish his problems once and for all. Robert Parrish was beyond angered, whether it be from hearing of his son’s tardiness to school, or his son’s disrespectful mannerisms, or his son being late home. Robert Parrish was far from done, and Adam knew it.

     Adam was convinced his father would kill him right then and there.

     And the thing was… he was okay with it.

…

     An unseen punch directed to the bridge of Adam’s nose broke him from his stupor. Warm, thick blood rushed from his nostrils as Adam felt Robert rear back for another punch.

     He wouldn’t fight back.

     Another dull thud echoed in Adam’s ears as his father’s fist collided with his left cheek again. And again. And again. And again. There was a roar that started in Adam’s ears- quiet at first, but now a torrent in his head- blocking out all other sounds except his own quickening pulse.

     He wouldn’t fight back.

     He wouldn’t open his eyes.

     Suddenly the blows to his face ceased, and Adam felt the weight of his father lift from his battered body. He thought, full of hope and a little relief, that it was over, that his father would drag him up and take him inside, that this would all be forgotten by tomorrow. Then, the weight of his father’s heavy working boot slammed into his ribs. Stars littered the inside of Adam’s eyelids as he felt something crack. He felt his body involuntarily curl up around his injured ribcage, a purely defensive stance.

     He wouldn’t fight back.

     He couldn’t fight back.

     He wouldn’t… He couldn’t…

     All that existed for Adam was his darkness, his pain, and his pulse. Adam knew nothing else, he felt nothing else, he saw nothing else. Time didn’t exist in that moment. Adam could have been curled up defending his vitals for a few seconds, and few minutes, or a few hours- it was all the same to him. Eventually, the attacks ceased as Robert Parrish no doubt got bored or tired, but Adam remained as he was, on the ground like the useless nobody that he was. He was fooling himself if he thought he could go to school, work three jobs, and make friends all at once. Adam Parrish knew first-hand that fairy tales never existed, that he would have to work for everything he wanted, or he would get nothing. And his father was a poetic reminder of that; whenever he felt too high on his horse, too important- even for a brief moment- his father was always there to remind him that he was unimportant. He was never going to amount to anything. He was just as worthless as his father always said he was. He was only a mistake, after all.

     The sun set around Adam Parrish’s broken body.


	6. Ronan Lynch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next day as told from Ronan Lynch!

    Ronan Lynch was looking for Adam.

     Aglionby was not short on teenaged boys who thought they were worth more than their parents’ money, and wore their uniforms accordingly. However, there was only one Adam Parrish. Only one boy who managed to look meek and smaller in the Aglionby uniform than without it. Only one boy who smiled modestly, who laughed quietly, and actually managed to keep up with Ronan’s wild behavior. Only one boy whose natural dusty locks stood out among the slicked back hairstyles and outlandish spikes of the others. Only one boy who managed to catch his eye.

     And he was apparently missing.

     Gansey came into homeroom the day after their little meet up with Adam (on time, he might add) all excited to talk to Adam more about whatever wild conspiracy theory interested him at the moment. Noah listened to Gansey’s ramblings patiently, yet stole Ronan some pleading glances that begged him to change the subject or distract Gansey for a minute. Ronan ignored Noah intently, focused on balancing his chair on its hind legs. He had refused to talk about yesterday to anyone- pretending it didn’t happen- yet replaying it over and over in his mind.

_“For the pizza.”_

Ronan played with the fiver that Adam threw at him last night in his pocket, pondering over the anomaly that is Adam Parrish. Ronan didn’t use Adam’s money for the pizza, or even for the tip (which Gansey stressed should have been more generous). At the time, it seemed obvious, but now Ronan had no idea why he kept it, why he still had it.

     His mind wandered to the moment just after Adam rushed through the front door of Nino’s out to Gansey’s car.

…

_Ronan picked up the neatly folded five-dollar bill from the table in front of him, and stared at it as if it were alien._

_“That was nice,” Noah commented, glancing over at Ronan, “For him to pay for his share. Even in a rush, he had manners.”_

_Noah’s tone was implying something else, but Ronan chose to ignore it. Instead, he pocketed the fiver and pulled out his own wallet to cover the bill. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Noah raise his eyebrows, but wisely not say anything. Once the bill was done and paid for, Gansey entered the diner once again, looking a little dazed as he wandered over toward the boys._

_“Strange,” he said vaguely as he slumped into the booth adjacent to Ronan and Noah._

_“What?” Noah asked, because it was clear Ronan wouldn’t._

_“He was really in quite the rush to work, but I’m sure he probably missed at least half of his shift by now.”_

_“This is Adam we’re talking about, Gansey. Top in the class, hard worker, over-achiever, the whole nine yards. Of course he would want to at least make it to some of his shift.”_

_“I suppose…” Gansey trailed off, clearly not fully believing the whole story- no doubt concocting his own conspiracy theory in his head as to what Adam was doing._

_“Well he was right about one thing!” Gansey started back up suddenly, getting the attention of both Noah and Ronan._

_“That we’re insane?” Noah guessed._

_“No, Noah. Well… No, I meant something else.”_

_When no one made any guesses as to what Gansey was thinking, he rose from the booth and pointed at each of his friends in a disproving way._

_“We have homework to do.”_

_“Fuck that,” Ronan muttered, but got up from the table along with Noah. The boys quickly left the diner, taking separate cars to go back to Gansey’s place for the night. All that night, thoughts of Adam wouldn’t leave Ronan’s mind._

_…_

     “Alright, gents,” a voice, full of authority and superiority broke through Ronan’s thoughts, which pissed him off more than it should have. His chair legs slammed back down to the floor with a satisfactory bang that made the whole class jump. Mr. Brunson, who stood in the front of the room carrying a book sent a glare in Ronan’s direction, but didn’t comment on it, instead saying, “Class has officially begun. I’m going to take attendance…”

     Ronan peered around the class, looking for Adam’s familiar dusty brown curls, and coming up short. He hasn’t arrived yet. Not yet.

     “Abernathy?”

     “Here.”

     Ronan remembered how his stomach churned when Gansey told him and Noah the story of how he met Adam. Of how he rode a bike every day from god knows where just to get to school.

     “Cheng?”

     “Here.”

     Adam Parrish looked old enough to drive, so why didn’t he take a car to school? Ronan could understand boys walking to school if they lived in the immediate area, but from where Gansey said Adam found him, he made quite the trek to school each day.

     “Czerny?”

     “Here.”

     Ronan thought of why Adam went to Aglionby, a rich kid prep school that he clearly didn’t belong in. He was too smart for public schooling, sure, but Adam’s personality didn’t fit in with the typical Aglionby student. He was quieter, less bold, and infinitely less self-centered. He didn’t show off his wealth, like other boys, as proven by the fiver dollar bill in Ronan’s pocket.

     “Gansey?’

     “Here, sir.”

     Most Aglionby boys, including Gansey, Noah, and Ronan were disgustingly rich. Sons of millionaires were nothing special in such a school, where any given student could make it rain with $100 bills. And, like all Aglionby students, Ronan carried nothing less than a $50 on him at all times. So seeing a Raven Boy whip out a fiver before a fifty stuck Ronan as odd, but important in a way. He didn’t show off his wealth, but Ronan wasn’t sure Adam had any wealth to show off. He was sure Noah skimmed over that fact, upon mentioning that it was merely a nice gesture, but it meant something else to Ronan. But what was it…?

     “Lynch?”

     “Fuck off.”

     Mr. Brunson didn’t bat an eye, he merely read off the next name in the same monotone voice, “Minyard?”

     What about Adam Parrish could Ronan not get out of his head? He only officially met him yesterday, but the boy felt like Ronan’s biggest mystery. He found himself wanting to talk to Adam again.

     But he wasn’t at the fucking school.

     “Parrish?”

     The classroom was silent. Gansey and Noah, who sat in the two seats in front of Ronan, craned their heads to look at Adam’s empty seat, which was in the first row, closest to the door.

     “Parrish?”

     Ronan knew that Adam’s seat was empty, but he found himself glancing in the direction of his empty seat, hoping Adam would stumble through the door, books and papers askew and his hair in a mess, as he had done earlier in the year.

     Mr. Brunson made a mark in his book next to Adam’s name, and moved on as if it didn’t matter. But something in Brunson’s eyes gave away his true thoughts as Ronan studied him from the back of the room. He continued to call out names, and mark accordingly, yet every now and then, he glanced at the closed door, as if expecting Adam’s tardy arrival as well. He was probably just waiting for the next chance to publically humiliate him on his tardiness as he did yesterday. Ronan began to wonder if Mr. Brunson hated Adam for a reason, or if it was just his personality.

     “Alright, that’s done and out of the way,” Mr. Brunson said, setting his attendance book down onto his desk, “Now let class begin.”

_…_

     The rest of the day went similar to first period. As Ronan shared almost all of his classes with the little dusty haired jerk, he couldn’t help but noticing his absence in Every. Single. Fucking. Class. Ronan was sick and tired of hearing Adam’s name be called without an answer; it was pissing him off.

      At the very end of the school day, Ronan met up with Gansey in the school parking lot, next to their cars. It turns out that Gansey was just as worried about their new friend as Ronan was.

     “What if he got hit by a car or something on his way to work? His bike didn’t have any reflectors on it, after all.”

     “I’m sure he’s fine,” Noah assured him, though unenthusiastically, as if this were the tenth time he has made this point (which it probably was). “He probably just slept in and decided it was useless to try and show up. I mean, did you see how exhausted he looked yesterday? And that was before he went to work.”

     Ronan took interest in that last part of Noah’s statement. How did he notice how tired Adam looked? Was it that obvious? No, Ronan was studying Adam; he would’ve noticed if he looked tired. Noah was just exaggerating for Gansey’s sake, that was all.

     Was that all?

     This kind of shit was making Ronan pissed, and without a word he climbed into his BMW and slammed the driver’s door, satisfied with the colossal bang that echoed throughout the parking lot. Noah glanced over his shoulder at the car, as he was leaning nonchalantly on Gansey’s Camaro, and laid a questioning gaze inside to Ronan. Ronan returned it by roaring the engine to life and locking the car doors. Noah understood and turned back to Gansey, who was looking over Noah’s shoulder, a little worried.

     Ronan peeled out of the parking lot, feeling angry and worried at the same time. The anger he was used to; the worried feeling he was not. It settled at the core of his stomach and throat, unmoving, becoming more and more obvious the longer it stayed. As he sped down the highway, he tried to figure out what was going on with him.

     Why was he worried?

      Was this about Adam Parrish?

     Why would Ronan Lynch, who cares about nobody, be worried about a stranger like Adam Parrish?

     Why would Adam Parrish even be someone Ronan Lynch knows on a first name basis?

     What was going on with him?

     And, the most important question jostled in his brain as he broke 80 on the highway back to Gansey’s place. It was a constant question that he has been asking nonstop since homeroom, and it has slowly consumed his entire day with its pestering.

     Where the hell was Adam Parrish?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah, that was a really short one. I'm sorry, I don't really know how to write in the POV of Ronan because he has such a unique personality. I know I'm gonna have to do it a few more times before this fic is over, so I'm apologizing now for making his character all out of whack.


	7. The Next Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So basically what happens to Adam while Ronan is worrying at school.

            Adam was at home.

           He drifted between being awake and asleep for many hours before he made the decision to get out of his bed.

            Wait. His bed?

            When did he get here?

            Then, like a train, it hit him- more like a headache than a memory.

…

_Adam lay in the dust for over a half hour, incapable of living beyond the world of blood and dirt that he was trapped in. He wasn’t awake, yet he knew what was going on around him._

_He knew that his neighbor’s dog was barking, oblivious to its owner’s attempts to silence it._

_He knew the lights in his double wide were turned off, leaving Adam in the pitch blackness that was creeping up on him._

_He knew that frogs were starting to make noise, small chirps to one another to form a magnificent symphony._

_He knew that he was in extreme pain._

_After an immeasurable amount of time, Adam decided to take toll on his new injuries. Simply just trying to roll onto his back from his side told him that he must have had at least one fractured rib. He moaned in pain and forced himself to roll over all the way. Every intake of breath was a knife in his lungs, but he knew he had to stand up._

_He didn’t know how long it took him to fully stand, but by the time he staggered to his feet, the moon was high above his head. After getting to his feet, and managing to keep his balance, Adam put his hands up to his face, to take an estimate of how bad the swelling was._

_Adam felt his left eye swollen closed- useless in the pitch blackness anyway- and his nose seemed to be doubled in size. With a groan, he dropped his hands to his sides and staggered back to the steps of his double wide, as if in a dream._

_The next thing he remembered, it was 6 in the morning and his mother had entered Adam’s bedroom. She looked down at his pathetic form on top of his blankets and frowned._

_“You won’t be going to school today,” she said, and then was gone._

_Adam wasn’t complaining with that; he didn’t think he could get out of bed._

_He drifted off into a restless sleep soon after, with dreams of fast cars and murderous ravens._

_…_

          Adam still had not gotten out of bed. According to his watch, it was 4 in the afternoon; he would normally be going to work on his father’s car in the back by now, a bitter thought after what had happened last night.

          No, last night was insane. His father has never been that harsh before.

 _It was just that one time,_ Adam told himself quickly. _I doubt he will ever be like that again. He wouldn’t have done that if I wasn’t so stupid. This is my fault. All of this is my fault. Everything is always my fault._

          He got out of bed, ignoring the knives in his lungs, to look in the mirror.

          It wasn’t pretty.

          He left eye was still swollen shut, and bruises stretched from his left eye to over his nose. Adam mused that it made his face look like a galaxy, but quickly pushed this thought aside. His nose was oversized, and dried blood was still all over his lips and chin, and some was even on his shirt- his white button-down Aglionby shirt. He only had a few of those shirts, and this one was decidedly ruined for good. There was dried blood all down the front, caked dust and dirt all down the back, and tears all over the sleeves and collar.

 _Great,_ thought Adam. _I’m going to run out of these shirts one day._

           That was it for the visible damage Adam had suffered, but he was reluctant to take off his shirt and see what lay underneath. To stall, he padded out of his room and into the unoccupied bathroom to wash all the remnants of last night off of himself. Once he looked at himself even closer in the mirror, with blood caked in his hair and dirt all in his fingernails, Adam decided to just take a shower.

          An immediate mistake, of course. After slowly turning the water on and testing it for its temperature, Adam was faced with the challenge of getting undressed. His fingers decided to attempt undoing his shirt first, which proved to be the easiest task. After shrugging the button- down off of his shoulders- and receiving a great stab of pain in response- Adam contemplated on how to untie his shoes and undo his pants.

           The process was not graceful, and Adam had his fair share of grunts as he moved a little too far or a little too quickly. His shoes were quickly kicked off, and he carefully toed off his socks, not wanting to bend over in fear of the pain. Then he was faced with the challenge of his pants. There was no way around that one.

          He gave himself a small little pep talk before he- in one swift motion- tugged off his pants and jumped into the shower. He bit his hand hard in pain, and didn’t release his teeth until he tasted blood on his lips. His shoulders were stiff and painful and his ribcage was screaming at him in agony for him to stop moving. Adam said a silent apology to his ribs and began scrubbing the remnants of last night off of his body, the pain starting out like a sharp burn, then dulling to a constant throb.

         He was out of the shower and back into his room in less than 10 minutes; he didn’t want to hog the bathroom from his parents, even though only his mother was currently home.

          With the towel around his thin waist, Adam contemplated if it was worth it to look into his mirror to see the damage done to him without all of the blood. Maybe the blood made it look worse than it actually was. But then there was his chest. He paced back and forth, debating the topic, weighing the options, ignoring the excruciating pain in his ribs even still. Finally, after his hair had dried and his mind was made up, Adam stood in front of the mirror, preparing for the worst.

          And, oh boy, did he get it.

         On his chest, there was a huge purple and blue bruise that was shaped into a perfect oval. Into a perfect size 12 boot size. Into his father’s working boots. Adam remembered with a painful jolt how his father had stomped on his chest in anger the night before.

           Adam moved his eyes downward to his ribcage. He felt sick as he counted all of the black and blues that dotted his stomach. The bruises, however, were mostly small, and virtually painless. It was the darker and more colorful part of his ribs that drew his attention. This was the area that was screaming at him from the moment he woke up that morning. That was the mark of one of his father’s angriest kicks, and it seemed to be more than just a bruise.

          He touched it gently with his fingers, only to recoil in pain from the soft touch. Adam cursed to himself, praying to the gods of medicine and suffering that his rib wasn’t broken, just severely bruised. As he pulled his hands away from his ribs, he also noticed some color on his arms. Flipping his arms over so that his forearms were facing the mirror, Adam saw the black and blues that went from his elbow to his wrist.

          This was worse than he thought it would be.

          Taking his ribs as a priority, Adam staggered into his kitchen to get a bag of frozen peas from the freezer. Applying it to his skin felt like hell, but after 10 minutes of the contact, Adam began to be able to breathe easier.

          He also applied the peas to his face- primarily to his nose- and noticed with some pleasure that his nose was beginning to return to normal size. By the time that dinner rolled around, Adam had gotten the swelling on his face down so that it was barely noticeable (minus the giant bruises of course) and had indeed come to the conclusion that his ribs were only bruised. Although sitting and standing back up were hell for him, he put on a false face and went to go eat with his parents.

         Adam was a little surprised to find that at the dinner table, only Adam’s mother ate. Robert Parrish wasn’t at the table, so Adam assumed that he was out to eat with one of his co-workers. Adam felt a thrill of happiness at this new information, but quickly stuffed it down in his mind, angry for his happiness. He walked slowly and carefully to the table, and sat down, trying not to wince in pain, across from his mother, who ignored him, as usual.

         Adam began to slowly eat, knowing he should be hungry from all the time he had lost, but not being able to find a decent appetite to have more than a few spoonfuls of soup. Suddenly, Adam’s mother spoke, quietly and coldly.

          “You should go to school tomorrow,” she said shortly.

          “I was planning to,” Adam answered, then hesitated. “But… I’m not sure how I’m going to ride my bike all the way there…”

           Adam’s mother looked him over without pity, then looked back down at the table.

           “That’s your fault.”

           Adam held in a sigh, knowing she was right. If he had just been careful, he wouldn’t be in this situation. He knew he shouldn’t have talked to Gansey and Noah, and especially not Ronan Lynch.

           Adam had asked for this punishment, practically, because he didn’t think.

           He never thinks. He never thinks. He never thinks.

          His soup was cold, and he was alone at the dinner table. When did that happen?

          Making his way to his room, Adam tried to think of what to do tomorrow for school. Biking would probably kill him, but it was faster than walking. He had no car to drive and no friends to give him a ride.

          He couldn’t miss school tomorrow; his parents would be pissed. It seemed like the only way to get to school was by bike, after all. Probable death by exertion outweighed certain death by his father’s hand.

          Adam carefully edged into bed, laying on his back and breathing shallowly, dreading for the moment the sun comes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright I know this was short so I'm gonna update again this week with the next chapter. I think I'm going to make it in Ronan's POV again but I'm not sure... Please comment what you feel about where this is going! I'm sorry if it's sad, but it will get fluffier soon, I promise!


	8. Bike vs. BMW

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronan and Adam meet up in an unexpected way and Ronan helps Adam out.

 

            Ronan had left Gansey’s place early. As to why, he didn’t really know.

            He was just angry, and needed to take a drive by himself. Noah had been hogging the bathroom all morning taking a shower, and Gansey had been sitting up all night making his cardboard town- quite nosily, he might add. He needed to get out and just… drive.

            School began for the Aglionby boys in almost an hour, but Ronan was on the road heading toward it at a break-neck speed.

            The harder he stepped on the gas, the angrier he felt. Angry at his stupid-ass friends for being impossible in the mornings. Angry at the teachers who plagued Aglionby. Angry at Mr. Brunson and his constant glances to the door, hoping another late student will come in for him to chew out. Angry at himself for letting Gansey down every day; that kid had his hopes set too high for Ronan. Angry at Gansey for having his hopes set too damn high. Angry at his BMW for not going fast enough. And he was especially angry at Adam Parrish for not being at school the day before.

            Ronan’s car was silent, devoid of the usual heavy metal that the neighbors can hear as he passes by. The silence allowed him to think uninterrupted, and his mind wandered to the scrawny boy with the sad eyes and the modest smile. Adam Parrish, a mystery among men, a sheep among wolves, a star among the black sky. Ronan was frustrated with this strange boy, but wanted to know more about him at the same time. He wanted to punch him, yet he felt oddly protective of him all at once. He had only known Adam personally for a day, but he felt like he knew him for years. Come to think of it, did Adam have any long-time friends in Aglionby? Ronan highly doubted it; Adam was a class of his own. He was genuine where others were not, but was hiding things that others would not. Ronan discovered with a start that he knew almost nothing about Adam Parrish. He knew that he was smart, but everyone knew that. He knew that he worked a late shift, but he didn’t know where. He knew that he biked to school, but he didn’t know where from.

            This lack of knowledge pissed Ronan off, and he stepped on the gas even harder, breaking the speed limit by at least 30 miles per hour.

            And that’s when he almost ran over Adam Parrish.

            Turning the corner of a tight bend, going much faster than the posted sign, Ronan stuck close to the shoulder to prevent himself from colliding with any cars going the opposite way. However, it just so happened that at this particular curve, riding along the shoulder on his bike, was Adam Parrish.

            “Fuck!” Ronan shouted as he both slammed on the breaks and made a wild turn in the opposite direction of Adam. Ronan’s BMW skidded along the asphalt and spun, almost a complete 180, so that he didn’t kill the biker. The tires screamed at Ronan and left skid marks along the road, but finally his car came to a loud and very jarring stop.  From out of his window, Ronan could see Adam dismount his bike stiffly and throw it to the ground, half-jogging, half-limping toward Ronan’s driver side window. Ronan was too pissed off at almost killing this idiot to roll down the window for Adam to talk through. He sat and stared straight ahead at his clenched fists and the road ahead of him, knowing full well that he was facing on-coming traffic that probably wouldn’t be able to see him in time.

            _Maybe they’ll hit me straight on and put me out of this misery,_ Ronan mused dramatically.

            A soft knock echoed from Ronan’s window, and he glared over his shoulder at the face of a half-worried, half-pissed off Adam Parrish.

            Except… that wasn’t his face…

            “What the _fuck_ happened to you?!” Ronan shouted through the closed window. He didn’t waste any time in seeing if Adam understood him, and he wrenched open his car door, hitting Adam in the stomach as he did so. Adam released a low grunt and backed away from Ronan’s car, his hands on his knees, but Ronan didn’t take much notice at the time.

            He was angry. He was so pissed off, but he didn’t know at what.

            Looking at Adam’s doubled-over form made Ronan so pissed off that he turned and slammed his car door shut as hard as he could, almost swinging it off the hinges. The BMW shook from the force, the air freshener that hung off the rear view mirror swinging madly back and forth. Ronan waited until it stopped swinging to trust himself to turn around and face Adam.

            Adam had stood back up, though he held himself carefully and he had a grimace of pain on his face.

            His face…

            “Parrish,” he started slowly, seething through his teeth. “What the _actual fuck_ happened to your face?”

            Adam’s eyes showed a little alarm at Ronan’s tone of voice, but he answered Ronan coldly regardless. “I don’t see why that’s any of your business, Lynch.” The last part, he spat out with something that couldn’t be described as anger, but it certainly had a lot of feeling to it.

            Ronan paused as a Honda Civic rounded the corner and passed by Ronan’s BMW, honking ferociously as it went. Ronan casually flipped them off, eyes still on Adam’s bruised and battered face. His left eye was barely open, and the bruise itself, in addition to Adam’s freckles, made his face look like a galaxy. It was too harsh to be beautiful, but Ronan wouldn’t have described it any other way.

            “Let me try again,” Ronan started again, once the Civic had gone out of sight. “What are you doing biking to school this early in the morning? School doesn’t start for almost another hour.”

            “I know,” Adam responded carefully. “I just wanted to make sure I got there on time today.”

            For some reason, this explanation didn’t seem complete to Ronan. There was something else to it, but it wasn’t a lie. Ronan could tell when someone is flat-out lying, and when they are telling a partial truth; Adam was giving most of his truth, but something crucial was missing.

            “At this rate, you’ll get to the school and have a half-hour to kill,” Ronan commented, glancing at his watch casually. “Or maybe that’s what you want. You want to get there early to collect all your missing work like the good little boy you are; the perfect little star student, Adam Parrish.”

            It was childish, he knew. But Ronan wanted to get a reaction out of Adam; he didn’t want to be the only one who was angry.

            “Oh, just fuck off, Lynch,” Adam spat vehemently, then winced violently, his thin frame slouching inwards slightly.

            Ronan watched as Adam struggled to suck in a deep breath, his eyes shut tightly and his hands gently touching his side. He watched as Adam struggled to brush off whatever had just happened. He watched as Adam straightened back up and looked Ronan in the eyes once more, his own eyes holding back waves of pain and emotion.

            “What the fuck was that?” was what Ronan had planned to say, his voice laced with anger and carelessness.

            Instead what came out was a weak, “Are you okay?”

            No malice, no anger, no carelessness. Just pure concern.

            Adam’s eyes, well, _eye_ widened at Ronan’s show of concern, and he seemed like he didn’t know how to respond for a moment. Then, he shrugged helplessly at Ronan, his expression softening.

            “I suppose I shouldn’t have turned down Gansey’s offer to drive me home,” he started out quietly. “It turned out to be a lot darker than I thought it would be.”

            Ding, ding, ding. Alarms were blaring in Ronan’s head, capturing his attention. That was a dead lie, what Adam just told him. Ronan would have normally caught him on that and beaten the truth out of him, but he let it slide this time, as he was just glad Adam was actually telling him _something._

            Ronan cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes at Adam. “You’re telling me you crashed your bike and this happened?”

            Adam nodded stiffly at Ronan, a strange emotion flickering across his black and blue face briefly. Was that guilt he saw? No way; Ronan brushed that off as a mind trick. Before he spoke again, a row of three colorful cars, each filled to the brim with Aglionby boys, came speeding by, laying on the horn as they scooted around Ronan’s vacated car. While still looking at each other, both Adam and Ronan flipped off the drivers simultaneously, ignoring the curses and insults shouted their way from the open windows.

            “If your face looks that bad, what the fuck does the rest of your body look like, Parrish?” Ronan asked seriously. He saw curiously as Adam’s face turned a slight shade of red, then he broke eye contact. Adam looked uncomfortably at the skid marks created by Ronan’s BMW and he took in a deep breath. Ronan was almost positive that Adam was going to refuse to respond, but then was surprised by hearing him speak up after a minute of silence.

            “Nothing’s broken, at least,” he said softly, glancing back up at Ronan.

            “Fuck that, Parrish! Did you just see what I saw a minute ago?” he was referring to when Adam had doubled over in pain. “No way nothing’s broken!”

            Adam just shook his head- whether in response or in disbelief- at Ronan, who was beginning to feel angry again. He hadn’t noticed when he stopped feeling angry, but now that it was back, it had doubled in ferocity. 

            “Parrish, you are actually pulling my fucking leg, aren’t you? How in fuck’s sake did you even manage to bike all the way from wherever the fuck you live to this point without dying if you can’t even talk above a whisper without keeling over?!”

            Ronan had no idea why he was so angry with Adam, who had no fault in any of this. He was the victim in all of this, and maybe that’s what made Ronan so angry.

            Adam seemed to be surprised by this sudden spout of anger as well. He stood in place, watching Ronan rave with wide eyes, his own temper dying down as he watched Ronan carefully, cautiously.

            “Okay, you know what?” Ronan growled after a bit more ranting to (at) Adam. “Let me see the rest of this damage, Parrish. Lift your shirt.”

            Adam went beet red and gripped the ends of his long sleeves tightly, almost as if he was willing it to remain on his body.

            “What the hell, Lynch?” he exclaimed. “There’s no way!”

            “Why not? Do you have something to hide from me?”

            “No! I don’t want you seeing me shirtless, is that a shock to you?”

            “Oh please, Parrish. I know you’re hiding something. And you probably have no experience with anything more than a freaking paper cut. What if it’s really bad and your freaking ignorance will actually be the death of you? I know what I’m talking about here. What did your parents even say about this?”

            Adam, who was about to retort, was brought up short by the last bit. He looked pained for a moment, but not in a physical way. Ronan had struck a nerve with the mentioning of his parents; Ronan put that new information about Adam into the back of his mind to consider for later. Adam went silent again, staring at his shoes with his pained expression; as if he wasn’t even standing in front of Ronan Lynch anymore; as if he wasn’t standing in the middle of a road anymore; as if cars weren’t passing by behind him, honking their horns in anger. Finally, he looked up at Ronan, his blue eyes devoid of the fight and stubbornness that was in them a moment ago. Seeing Adam look like that, with his eyes so sad and his face so beaten up made Ronan want to beat up whatever caused this, but he wasn’t sure if that would mean he would have to beat up himself or not.

            “Fine,” Adam said softly. “If I show you, will you just leave me alone?”

            Ronan nodded to Adam, then braced himself for what he was about to see.

            Adam looked down the road in both directions, making sure no cars would come and see them, then began to button down his white Aglionby shirt. It was quiet around them as Adam worked, Ronan holding his breath in anticipation, Adam holding his in fear. Adam’s fingers fumbled with the last button, then he slowly opened his shirt so that the collar hung around his shoulders.

            Ronan felt sick.

            Adam’s thin frame was beaten up badly. There was a deep black and blue oval on the center of his chest, spreading upwards so that it almost reached the base of his neck. In addition, there were tiny bruises that polka-dotted his body, from waist to chest. His ribcage protruded from his chest, so that Ronan could count each individual rib. So that he could see what was wrong with one of them.

            Dark blue and purple shrouded one of Adam’s top ribs on his left side, looking swollen and painfully squishy compared to the rest of Adam’s lean body, made up of angles and lines. Ronan had taken a step forward before he noticed it, his hands reaching out to inspect Adam’s rib cage. He stopped before he could touch the other boy’s skin, aware of how close they were. There was no way in hell a bike crash did this to Adam, no matter how fierce it was. This bruise was concentrated and specific, as if he had been hit repeatedly with the same object.

            Ronan shook himself out of his dark thoughts and looked back up to Adam, who was watching Ronan carefully. Ronan backed up from the boy, and tried hard to take any concern out of his eyes before he spoke.

            “Well, you’re right, Parrish,” he commented lightly. “That’s not broken. But that is one hell of a bruise.”

            “I guess that’s where I hit the guardrail,” Adam put in, reminding Ronan of his lie.

            “Yeah,” he said shortly in response to the continuation of the lie. “Did you take any pain-killers or anything?”

            When Adam shook his head, Ronan whistled in admiration.

            “You hard-core fucker,” he exclaimed, sounding quite pleased. “Well, you won’t last the day without it, so I’ll lend you a bottle.”

             Ronan wrenched open his car door, not waiting for a response, and leaned over to the passenger side. He opened the glove compartment by banging it with his fist and ignored the tickets and spare papers that spilled out. He searched blindly for a minute before his hand enclosed around a small bottle, which he grabbed tightly and pulled out. He shuffled his way out of the car and turned around to face Adam, who had preoccupied himself by buttoning his Aglionby shirt back up with his long, nimble fingers. Ronan found himself staring, watching silently as he worked.

             Adam glanced back up once he was done and watched as Ronan tried to quickly hide the fact that he was watching. He thrust the bottle toward Adam, who accepted it gratefully.

             “Thank you,” he said softly, shaking it lightly to take an estimate of how many were in there. If he was careful, he would be able to get by for the next few weeks with these. Adam hoped that he wouldn’t need them any longer than that. He was suddenly overwhelmed with guilt, then found himself struggling to accept the pills.

             “I’ll give these back to you by next week, I promise,” he said quickly, looking back up at Ronan.

             Ronan looked at Adam, bemused. “Dude, you need those way more than I do. Just keep them, I’ll figure out another way for you to pay me back.”

             He said that last part with such a menacing grin, the grin that could make children cry, Adam instantly regretted accepting anything from this boy. He examined the pill bottle, looking for the correct dosage, anything to look away from Ronan’s horrible grin.

             “You take two a day,” Ronan spoke up. “If you need to, you can take more though; I’ve done it and look at me.” He gestured to himself like he was a work of art.

             Adam vowed to not take more than two per day.

             “Oh, and by the way,” Ronan started, on a more serious note. “There’s no way in hell that I’m letting you get back on that bike.”

             Adam looked over his shoulder to where he discarded his bike, then turned back helplessly to Ronan.

             “That’s the only way I get around,” he said shortly.

             “You don’t have a car?”

             “No, not my own, anyway.”

             “Well then, from now on, I’ll drive you.”

             Adam visibly cringed as Ronan said that. Ronan wouldn’t have been hurt by that if it had been anyone else but Adam. But for some reason, Ronan wanted Adam to like him; he wanted Adam’s approval.

            “What?” Ronan asked. “You don’t trust me?”

              Adam looked at Ronan as if he had made an awful joke. “You almost killed me with your car, Lynch.”

             “You almost killed yourself with your bike, Parrish.”

             “I don’t need you to drive me around.”

             “I think you do.”

             Adam groaned, rubbing at his temples with his fingers. He checked his cheap watch and saw that they were running low on time. All of his talk with Ronan had killed the better part of the hour he gave himself to bike to school. There was no way he could bike there and make it on time. With a sigh, he looked back up to Ronan, who was standing smugly with his arms folded across his chest. Oh, was he going to regret this.

             “Okay, Lynch. You can give me a ride to school. But that’s it, okay?”

             “Great to hear,” Ronan shrugged off the question and walked past Adam to where the boy’s bike lay on its side. Adam watched, confused, as Ronan picked the rusty bike up off the ground and began to carry it back to the BMW.

             “I can take that, you know,” Adam argued weakly, as Ronan passed by him again, heading toward the trunk.

             “Of course you can, princess,” Ronan replied, already stuffing the bike into the spacious trunk. “Now get in the car.”

             Adam stood and marveled at his luck. He didn’t know whether it was good or bad, but it was certainly something.

             Twice in the past two days that Adam rode to school he was picked up by one of the Raven Boys he had previously hated the most, to find them to be completely different from what he knew. Adam smiled to himself, then slowly and carefully edged himself into the passenger seat of the BMW. The seats were softer and more comfortable than Gansey’s, and the interior was better taken care of, which was shocking considering it was Ronan Lynch’s car. Soon, Ronan joined him, ducking into the driver’s seat, and the engine roared to life.

             From his time working on cars, Adam knew the sound of a good engine. In fact, he loved the sound of it- the sound sent the blood pumping in his veins and his heart skipped a beat. Ronan’s BMW had the best sound Adam had ever heard from a car, and he found himself smiling as Ronan began to drive. The BMW pulled back into the correct lane and sped to Aglionby, with 10 minutes to spare.

              Adam took this time to take the first of the pills that Ronan gave him. He knew he shouldn’t take mysterious drugs from strangers, but Adam had seen the look on Ronan’s face when he saw his chest. Adam couldn’t get that look out of his head; he couldn’t help but to trust him after seeing the raw concern on his face.

             As the BMW hit 80 on the highway, Adam glanced over at Ronan from the corner of his eye. The other boy gazed intently at the road in front of him, the thrill of the open road in his icy eyes. Adam noticed that Ronan smirked as he drove; not the sarcastic, menacing smirk he gave others, but the small crooked one that he gave Adam the other night at Nino’s. The smirk that Adam found so interesting. The smirk that Adam liked to see.

 _Maybe Ronan Lynch isn’t too bad after all,_ Adam thought to himself as he turned back to look out the window, at the scenery blurring by.

             Ronan reached over to turn on the radio, and grinned as he turned the dial all the way up. Adam’s ears started to bleed immediately from the horrible sound that screamed into his ears mercilessly.

             “SQUASH ONE, SQUASH TWO, SQUASH THREE…”

             Adam hated Ronan Lynch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW, I am on a roll with updating!  
> Sorry to say that the next update will be a little longer in the making.  
> .  
> Did you guys like this longer chapter?  
> Please let me know what you think!  
> .  
> (PS all of you guys who had left me comments, I write this for you guys! The amount of hits don't matter to me, but to get a new comment from you guys literally makes my entire day! So please, don't feel shy and comment saying anything!


	9. Back at Aglionby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam and Ronan meet up with the rest of the Raven gang and actually do school activities. Well, not really...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS BEEN SO LONG!!!!!!!  
> I'm so sorry! School has been murdering me more than usual lately, but now that we're on break, I can get back to my favorite gays.  
> I promise I will try and be more consistent!  
> .  
> Comments always welcome!! Tell me what you think!

     “Thank you,” Adam felt obligated to say once he and Ronan rolled into Aglionby’s parking lot.

     Ronan eyed Adam strangely out of the corner of his eye, as if confused, or suspicious of Adam’s gratitude. He must have decided it was a genuine comment and grunted bluntly in reply as he veered around a group of loud boys who were walking across the lot to the front doors.

     Ronan steered directly to the front of the lot, to the very first parking spot. Strangely enough, even though the parking lot was more than half full of colorful Mustangs and sleek Porsches, this spot was left empty. As the BMW slid into the spot, Adam realized that this must be Ronan’s Parking Spot. No one would dare cross Ronan by parking there, in fear of Ronan or out of respect of him, perhaps no one truly knew. However, Ronan Lynch was getting more and more interesting by the minute.

     After shutting off the car, Ronan sat quietly for a second, staring at his rope bracelets around his wrists. Not knowing if Ronan wanted him to get out or if he wanted to say something, Adam sit silently, fingers rubbing the plastic medicine bottle he received earlier. Without the engine on and the radio blaring, the silence that encompassed them was slightly uncomfortable, but not completely unpleasant. The air filled with tension, but not overwhelmingly so; as if both wanted to say something, but waited for the other to go first.

     Adam had to break the silence.

     “Uhm, thanks again,” Adam blurted out the same exact time as Ronan blurted out, “How do you feel?”

     In a moment of complete awkwardness, both boys looked at each other and waited for the other to go first.

     Ronan, suddenly seeming to remember that he was a badass trouble maker who shouldn’t be this awkward around Adam, groaned as he looked pointedly away from Adam Parrish.

     “Fucking Christ Parrish,” he growled, “Stop fucking thanking me and let me talk.”

     “I’m listening,” Adam’s reply came quietly from next to him.

     “I _said_ how do you feel? You only took one of those painkillers and you look like total shit still.”

     Adam was quiet for a moment as he glanced down at the pain medication with Ronan’s name on it.

     “You know Ronan,” he finally said, still looking down. “I’m no doctor, but I don’t think medication has advanced far enough to heal bruises in five minutes. I also don’t really think it works better with the more pills you take. If that’s your philosophy, though, that explains a lot.”

     Adam’s reply wasn’t what Ronan expected at all. He turned back at the boy to see Adam Parrish’s tanned face smirking softly at his lap, with his eyes- well, eye that wasn’t swollen shut- sparkling with humor. His hair caught the early morning sunlight, which made each strand look as if it were made out of pure gold. Ronan’s gaze followed Adam’s down to the bottle that he held carefully in his lap. The boy’s hands were as tanned and freckled as his face, with long, nimble-looking fingers that wrapped around the painkiller bottle in a way that Ronan could only think of as pretty.

     Ronan realized with a silent curse that he was staring for too long. Adam peered over at Ronan, looking slightly puzzled, showing his full, freckled face. The bruise that traced along the bridge of his nose and up around his eye was strangely complimented by Adam’s freckles, and made his blue eyes pop even more than usual. Before he could say anything to Ronan, who was currently rendered speechless, there came a knock on Ronan’s window, which made both boys jump nearly out of their skins.

    Before he noticed its absence, Ronan’s anger quickly replaced whichever other emotion he was feeling before then, becoming all the more angry that he couldn’t label what he was feeling. Without looking, Ronan grabbed the handle of the driver’s door and swung it open with as much force as he could, just like what he did to Adam this morning on the highway. The satisfying thud of a body being hit by the door and a small, surprised “Oof!” followed as Ronan forced his way out of the BMW. He heard Adam exit the car as well- though a little more gracefully- and gently close the passenger door behind him.

     The gentle click of the passenger door closing somehow angered Ronan further, and he grasped the edge of the driver door and slammed it with all of his might shut, shaking the car and making any student walking within a 50-foot radius jump. He started to feel a little bit better.

     “Okay, Ronan that was completely unnecessary,” a small, tight voice mumbled from the ground in front of Ronan. Glancing down, Ronan saw none other than Gansey clutching his side from a kneeling position on the asphalt. He couldn’t help but to laugh at the sight of Gansey trying to maintain a calm tone while struggling to breathe.

     “Looks like I knocked King Dick from his mighty pedestal,” he chuckled, not bothering to help Gansey up from the ground. Gansey didn’t seem to expect any help anyway; he carefully pushed himself up from the ground and stood- albeit a little shakily- and faced Ronan, unamused.

     “Good morning to you, too, Ronan,” Gansey said, ever the gentleman. “How is it that you left Monmouth before both me and Noah, and you end up the last to show up? Did you stop by anywhere?”

     “You could say that,” Ronan mumbled.

     “He tried to start out his day with some early-morning homicide,” Adam spoke up suddenly, making his way around the tail end of the BMW to stand at Ronan’s shoulder.

     Gansey’s gaze switched from Ronan to Adam as he prepared another polite early-morning greeting.

     Then he froze. His eyes widened in shock as he looked at Adam’s face. Then he looked back to Ronan, who kept his expression unreadable. Then back to Adam, who just realized what this must look like to Gansey.

     “Ronan,” Gansey started, still looking at Adam’s face worriedly, “What the _hell_ did you do?”

     “Oh god, nah Gansey,” Adam started, forgetting to smooth out his Henrietta accent. Ronan glanced over out of the corner of his eye without moving his head, perhaps entertained by Adam’s discomfort at having to explain the situation for Ronan, who clearly wasn’t in the mood for being cooperative.

     Adam didn’t know what had happened. The Ronan he was with this morning seemed to have vanished; the funny, concerned, and friendly Ronan gave way to a greater monster- one similar to Joseph Kavinsky- the moment Gansey knocked on his car window. And now he was stuck trying to explain that this Ronan somehow wasn’t the cause of his fucked-up face.

     Adam took a deep breath. All he had to do was stick to the story. Then no one could call him out for wrong information. As long as he could remember the story he told Ronan this morning, with his deeply concerned eyes and his soft voice. He could do this; he was Adam Parrish after all. He was practically living a lie, especially on the grounds of Aglionby; this lie would be no different.

     “I – uh- the other night,” Adam started, remembering to smother his stupid accent. “When I was riding my bike to work, I… lost control. It was a lot darker than I first thought and I guess I lost sight of the pavement. My bike flipped and I kind of went over a guard rail. All of this- “Adam gestured to his face “- was from that. Ronan wasn’t involved at all; he didn’t do this to me.”

     Ronan cocked his head to the side when Adam told his story to Gansey, a small movement out of the corner of his eye. Even that slight movement made Adam uneasy, especially knowing that it was Ronan Lynch. Gansey- not noticing Ronan’s slight reaction- still stared at Adam like a mother would stare at her hurt child. He seemed to accept the story, but still looked upset at Adam’s injuries.

     “I knew I shouldn’t have let you go that night, Adam. You could have been hit by a car or something. This looks really bad though; are you sure that you are alright?”

     Adam lifted the prescription bottle he still had clutched in his hand.

     “Actually yeah, I’m fine. Ronan gave me some pain-killers, so it doesn’t hurt that much.”

     Gansey eyed the prescription bottle warily, as if remembering all of the times Ronan has had to use it himself. Then he peered back up as Adam suspiciously.

     “When did you get this? And what did you mean before when you said Ronan was starting his day out with some homicide?”

     Ronan snorted next to Adam, who narrowed his eyes at him, kind of pissed off that he was left doing all of the explaining for Ronan.

     “I was riding my bike here- “

     “You’re doing what now?” Gansey interrupted. “How can you still ride your bike around after what happened?”

     “Uh- the bike was fine, and I need it to get to school…”

     “No way are you taking that bike to school every day from now- “

     “I almost hit this asshat with my car,” Ronan interrupted before Gansey could continue in his motherly tirade.

     Gansey went silent for a second, perhaps debating the legitimacy to Ronan’s claim. Then he looked to Adam, who nodded slightly in confirmation and let out a huge sigh.

     “God, Ronan.”

     “It wasn’t intentional, Dick.”

     “It doesn’t matter; you were probably driving recklessly.”

     Ronan turned to face Gansey, smirking dangerously and sharply. It reminded Adam of that time in Nino’s when Ronan’s ice cold grin changed the entire mood of the table. It was incredible that a single expression from him had such a drastic effect on the people around him; Ronan Lynch was more powerful than Adam originally gave him credit for.

     “I don’t need you to be my mother, Dick,” Ronan spat, beginning to walk away. “Declan already does that; don’t need you doing it too.”

     “Well maybe you need us to,” Gansey muttered under his breath, too quiet for anyone but Adam to hear. Together they stood and watched Ronan’s retreating back disappear into the school just as the first bell sounded. Gansey heaved a great sigh and spun back to Adam.

    “I’m sorry for Ronan’s behavior. He’s always like this.”

     Always like this… Adam thought back to the Ronan he got to know this morning. That definitely wasn’t the Ronan that was present now. That wasn’t the Ronan that his closest friend Gansey knew. So who was this Ronan Lynch, and why was he playing games with Adam?

     Adam pondered this as he stepped into the school side-by-side with Gansey; what exactly has he gotten himself into?

…

      First period started out just as horribly as Adam expected it to.

     Everyone he passed by in the halls on the way to Brunson’s class did a double-take as they watched this scrawny kid with a swollen eye shuffle through the halls side-by-side with the legendary Richard Gansey the Third. What a strange sight they must have been.

     When the two entered Brunson’s class, Adam immediately took his seat- the closest one to the door- and prayed that first period would end. Maybe if he stayed silent, Brunson wouldn’t notice him…

     No such luck.

     “Ah, seats please, class,” Mr. Brunson announced as the second bell rang, signifying the beginning of classes. “I’ll take attendance now.”

     Mr. Brunson began to read off the list of boys in the class, some responding with a hand, others trying to be snarky and making comments, others just grunting to signify a presence. Adam mused to himself that how someone responded to roll call said a lot about them as a person. For example, when Noah Czerney was called, Noah raised his right hand in a two-fingered salute in a casual mocking way. When Richard Gansey the Third was called, Gansey sat up a little straighter and responded clearly, “Here, sir.”

     When Ronan Lynch was called, he didn’t respond. He was there, but he didn’t need to make his presence known; just being in a room was the equivalent to screaming out his name. As Mr. Brunson marked him present, Adam peered over his shoulder to the back corner of the room, where Ronan was absentmindedly folding up a piece of lined paper into an airplane, balancing on the back legs of his chair as he did so.

     “Adam Parrish,” Mr. Brunson’s voice boomed, bringing Adam’s attention back to the front of the room. Adam raised his hand silently, glad that his swollen eye faced toward the door and not the rest of the class. Regardless, Mr. Brunson must have noticed Adam’s face when he walked in with Gansey or something; he slowly made his way across the room to stand directly in front of Adam’s desk, bringing the attention of the rest of the class with him. Adam distantly heard Ronan’s chair legs slam back onto the floor.

      “And where, Mr. Parrish, were you yesterday?” he asked, tone as cold as ice.

 _Why me?_ Adam asked himself, _why does this guy just love to torture me?_

      “I – uh- was… sick” Adam answered lamely.

      “Oh?” Mr. Brunson raised his eyebrows as he marked Adam present in his book. “See me after class, Parrish.”

      Then Mr. Brunson walked away, as if nothing happened, continuing the rest of the attendance as Adam struggled to breathe normally.

     After finishing attendance, Mr. Brunson turned to the white board to write some notes for the class to copy. It was then that Adam was hit in the side of the head with a piece of paper. Startled, he picked it up from where it fell on the ground and studied it with confusion.

      A paper airplane.

     Adam craned his neck to look into the back corner of the room, where Ronan was adjusting his bookbag to use as a pillow. While laying his head down, Ronan caught eyes with Adam and gave him a small smirk. Not the one made of ice like he gave Gansey this morning; not even the one he had while driving in his BMW; this smirk was different. It was… amused, maybe even confident. Ronan seemed to find Adam amusing, and he wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. Before he could figure it out, Ronan turned his head away from Adam and began his daily first-period nap.

     Adam looked once again at the paper he was just assaulted with. He carefully unfolded it to reveal a message written sloppily in the dead center of the page. A message that made Adam’s heart grow cold and drop down to his stomach.

**If you tell a lie, at least try to keep to one story. Asshole.**

      Adam just wanted first period to end.

…

      Even the bell ringing wasn’t a welcome sound to Adam. As all the other boys exited the class- and Ronan brushed roughly past Adam’s shoulder- he instead made his way to Mr. Brunson’s desk. Mr. Brunson was busy organizing papers, but Adam’s presence didn’t go unnoticed.

     “You’re wondering why I made you stay after class.”

     “Well, yes sir.” Adam responded, wary of Brunson’s quick temper.

      “I wanted to chat about what happened the other day, Parrish,” Brunson said, without even looking up. “I know you probably think I shouldn’t have called home to your parents about your behavior, but I had no other choice.”

      Adam chose not to respond to that. Mr. Brunson didn’t seem to be expecting any reply anyway.

     “You see, Parrish, I know how people think. I especially know how students think; it’s all part of my job. But just knowing how students think isn’t enough to make them obey the school rules and policies. That kind of thing is taught through discipline; a sort of discipline I am not authorized to give.”

     Adam had no idea what Brunson was on about. He just wanted to leave…

     “And that is why,” Brunson continued. “I called home to your family. I believe that disrespectful behavior is best disciplined at the home- however small it may be- and that was my intention. So I sincerely do hope that your father’s disciplinary actions have made an effect on you and your behavior towards your elders, boy.”

     Adam vision became fuzzy. His world was spinning. What did he say? No. No, no, no.

     Mr. Brunson finally looked up from his stack of papers at Adam.

     “I hope that you were taught a valuable lesson, Parrish.”

     He knew.

     He knew about Adam’s dad.

     He knew about the bruises.

     He knew about his home.

     He knew.

     He knew.

     No, no.

     Adam couldn’t breathe. He had to remain calm. Remain respectful.

     Mr. Brunson knew about Adam’s dad. He used his father as blackmail. He riled up Robert Parrish on purpose, all for the sake of a lesson being learned. He couldn’t. But he did. How?

     “May I be excused, sir?” Adam’s voice was thick in his ears as he struggled to remain calm. Mr. Brunson, looking back down at his papers, nodded absently and waved Adam off.

     Adam made a beeline to the door, feeling like he was going to throw up. He opened the classroom door and made his way out into the hallway, not comprehending where he was or what he was doing.

     All that mattered was that Mr. Brunson caused this incident. He intentionally called home knowing that Robert Parrish would beat up Adam for being disrespectful. He caused this all to happen. Why would he do that? How could he do that? Did this mean all of the other teachers saw right through him just as easily? Will they all use his father as blackmail to keep him in line? How did any of them make the connection between his father and his injuries? How can he-

     Two strong hands grasped Adam’s shoulders tightly. His mind still on his father, Adam flinched violently away from the contact and jerked backwards. The hands immediately removed themselves from Adam’s shoulders with a muttered curse in a familiar voice.

     That voice…

_Ronan._

     Adam’s vision finally focused on the source of the curse. There, he found Ronan standing close to Adam, hands up as if he was surrendering to some unseen authorities. His face held nothing of what Adam expected. There was no anger or malice in his eyes; it was instead replaced by surprise and worry- though cleverly disguised. His eyebrows were furrowed as if he were in deep thought, as if he were trying to figure out Adam Parrish right then and there. He kept his mouth tight in a straight line, attempting to keep his expression neutral. Nonetheless, as Adam looked at Ronan longer, the tight line gave way to a small frown.

     “What the fuck went on in there?” Ronan asked, seeing how visibly upset Adam was. He wasn’t crying- he wasn’t anywhere close to it- but Adam’s face looked as if it had aged ten years in the last ten minutes. Ronan didn’t know what Brunson could have possibly said to make Adam look as horrible as he did, but he wanted to find out. Then, he wanted to kill Brunson.

     Adam shook his head, a little too quickly. “Nothing.”

     That’s it. That’s all Adam said. That’s all he was going to give Ronan. At least for now.

     “Are you sure?” a voice sounded from a space behind Ronan. Adam didn’t even notice Gansey and Noah standing slightly behind Ronan the entire time, his attention solely on the boy directly in front of him. He didn’t want to talk about what happened, and he knew that he couldn’t. These boys wouldn’t want to stay his friends forever; they just thought he was entertainment for the time being. Ronan’s amused smile flashed in Adam’s mind again.

     No.

     Adam wouldn’t let himself become cheap entertainment. Once they learned the truth behind Adam and his family, they would take the first opportunity to ditch him for someone else. Adam knew this. He knew this and yet… he wanted to be their friends. Even a friendship built on lies is better than no friendship at all.

     And since they were his friends, he couldn’t let them know.

     “I’m positive,” Adam responded to Gansey, quietly but confidently. His voice sounded steady enough, but it didn’t seem to convince Ronan, who scowled at Adam’s words. Before anyone could say anything, Noah took a step forward so that he was face to face with Adam.

     Noah wasn’t present at all this morning. He wasn’t there to witness any of what he discussed with Ronan or Gansey at all, and Adam is pretty sure Gansey hadn’t gotten to catching him up yet.

     And yet, having no clue what happened, Noah looked like he understood the most.

     Wordlessly, Noah brought up his hands to Adam’s face and, using his thumbs, smoothed out the worry lines that formed between Adam’s eyebrows.

     “You know,” Noah said quietly, only for Adam to hear. “We’re not bad guys. You can trust us with anything.”

     And just like that, Noah was gone, walking alone down the hallway, his hands clasped behind his head, like he was taking a stroll through the park. Without another word, Gansey nodded to Adam and followed Noah.

     Adam, realizing that he was left alone with an angry Ronan, peered up at the still-scowling boy. Ronan appeared to be waiting for something, but Adam didn’t know exactly what for.

     “I’m fine,” he found himself saying directly to Ronan. “I swear. You can stop worrying now.”

     Ronan widened his eyes ever so slightly as he looked down at Adam warily.

     _“And you can stop lying now.”_


	10. For the Pizza

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long! I swear, until I say so, I haven't stopped updating this fic, it's just a very slow WIP.  
> .  
> This chapter is pure fluff, no other way around it.

     Ronan didn’t leave Adam’s side for the rest of the school day.

     Not out of worry, of course. Ronan wasn’t an overbearing mother who kindly doted to her children. No, Ronan stayed by Adam’s side out of something else. Call it spite or stubbornness, Ronan wasn’t exactly sure. But there was no way he was gonna let Adam sudden;y escape without giving him an explanation. Even if it did take him all day to get something out of him.

     So, Ronan once again found himself walking side by side with Adam, who looked down at the ground in front of him as he walked to prevent people from seeing his horribly bruised face. Not that it stopped them, though. Maybe he wasn’t looking to prevent himself from seeing all of the stares he got as he walked through the halls of Aglionby. Even if he couldn’t see the stares, he undoubtedly heard the not-so-quiet whispers and the occasional jeer from a dick or two. However, Ronan took it upon himself to glare at all the people staring, hiss at all the people whispering, and curse out all the people jeering. Eventually, as the day went on, many people stopped paying Adam as much attention as he received in the beginning of the day, much to Adam’s relief. It might have had something to do with Ronan threatening to beat Poboksky with his own baseball bat after he shattered all of his Porsche’s windows and headlights, but it was just a theory.

     While walking in the halls, Adam didn’t say a word to Ronan, pretending like he wasn’t constantly at his side, but Ronan could tell that his presence was getting to him. It didn’t help that they went to all of the same classes, either. Ronan knew Adam wanted him to leave him alone, but Ronan wasn’t doing that without answers. Usually during lunches, Adam ate outside on the benches overlooking the pristine fields, alone and in peace. Not that Ronan ever noticed him there, as he was always eating lunch in the cafeteria, next to Gansey and Noah. However, today- true to his unspoken word- Ronan passed right by the lunch room and continued walking with Adam to the doors that lead outside. Adam didn’t say a word, and neither did Ronan. Until they got outside.

     As soon as the doors closed behind him, Adam whirled around to Ronan, standing only a few inches away from him. His bruised cheek flushed in well-hidden anger, and his eyebrows furrowed as he looked up to Ronan.

     “What the _fuck_  do you want with me, Lynch?” he seethed, biting out that last syllable.

     Ronan really didn’t know how to respond to Adam, but as he looked into Adam’s furious eyes, he began to feel a similar anger boil up, without cause and without warning.

     “I want answers, Parrish.”

     Adam took a step back from Ronan and glared up into the sky, his hands fidgeting around his broken face in frustration. He took a deep breath to try and calm himself down, but when he looked back to Ronan, his eyes were pure fire.

     “I have no answers for you, Lynch. I told you everything. Even if I didn’t tell you everything, it’s. None. Of. Your. Damn. Business.”

     “Parrish, you told too many fucking lies today for me to even remotely believe your bullshit. What you told me this morning isn’t true, and there’s nothing in this world I hate more than a liar.”

      “What do you care?” Adam exclaimed, wincing as his ribs screamed at him to stop yelling. “And what makes you the expert on my fucking life? Why can’t you just believe what I told you?”

     “Because this whole time I’ve called you a liar, you not once argued that.”

     Adam stared, the surprise making his features soften a little bit, and his eyes widen somewhat as he looked unflinchingly into Ronan’s eyes. Suddenly, Adam seemed to snap out of whatever daze he was in and turned his head to look out to the fields he would normally be watching from a bench in peace.

     “You want answers,” he began quietly. “And I gave them to you. It’s not my problem whether or not you believe it, Ronan.”

     He looked back at Ronan, his expression somewhat sad and distant, and Ronan knew not to push it. If he kept pushing this topic, Adam would eventually close up completely, and he couldn’t have that. Ronan Lynch wanted to continue to unravel the mystery that was Adam Parrish; and if that took longer than expected, he was willing to wait. So, he did something completely out of character and he dropped it.

     “Okay, fine,” he mumbled. “But don’t think I’m just gonna ignore you now, you dick.”

      Adam smiled lightly. “I thought Gansey was the Dick.”

      At that, Ronan barked a laugh- devoid of its usual malice and sarcasm- the sincerity of it almost surprising Ronan himself. Adam widened his eyes at Ronan’s laugh, shocked by how friendly it sounded, and found himself smiling as well, and ducked his head to chuckle to himself. He reveled silently as he laughed, having made Ronan Lynch, the monster of Aglionby, laugh genuinely and beautifully. He couldn’t believe that Ronan was even capable of human emotions like happiness that wasn’t morbid and humor that wasn’t dark.

      _How often does he laugh around Gansey and Noah?_ He wondered, thinking that it couldn’t be often at all.

     Having the air cleared (for now) between them, it was easier to laugh, and easier to forget what happened during first period, or what happened before school, or even what had happened yesterday. Adam Parrish enjoyed these few golden seconds with Ronan Lynch, hoping that they would last forever, yet not understanding exactly why. An arm being slung around his shoulders startled Adam out of his thoughts and he looked up at Ronan, who looked around the fields with a sharp grin.

     “Where does the legendary Adam Parrish eat his lunch every day, then? Is it over here, next to this fine trashcan? Or is it there, in the bathroom? Perhaps over yonder, in the shade of the glorious dumpster?” As Ronan spoke, he gestured grandly to each location, with an added flourish, which made Adam chuckle. He shook his head with exaggerated sadness and tried to school his expression into being something a little more sorrowful.

     “Nothing that grand, unfortunately. I usually eat on that bench next to the willow tree, like a heathen, I’m afraid.” Adam pointed to the bench and the tree, pretending to be disgraced by the location, which was quite the peaceful place to eat, in reality. Ronan spotted the bench and looked back at Adam with a raised eyebrow.

     “Oh, please tell me you’re not a sappy-ass poet who owns an aesthetic Tumblr account or anything.”

     Adam had no idea what a _tumbler_ was, so he just shook his head and began walking toward his everyday eating spot, hearing as Ronan huffed, then followed him. Adam pulled out his bookbag once he sat on the metal bench and dug through it to try and find his mediocre lunch, usually consisting of a slice of bread with peanut butter folded in half to make a sandwich. He frowned as he shoved all his books aside and still couldn’t find it.

     “Damn, I guess I forgot to put my lunch in my bag today,” Adam sighed, dropping his bag to the ground and shrugging.

     “Oh no,” Ronan responded, sounding sarcastically mother-like. “We can’t have our lil Adam starving, can we? Pain medication doesn’t work well on an empty stomach, you know.”

     Adam shrugged again, stretching his legs out in front of him. “It’s okay, I’m not really hungry anyways.”

      Ronan gapsed dramatically, causing Adam to snort. Adam turned to Ronan, who was making no effort to pull out any food of his own, either.

     “Oh, if you’re so worried, where is your lunch then, huh?”

     “Oh please, I don’t eat lunch here.”

     “Are you too cool for that?” Adam chuckled.

     “Something like that. But, for your sake, I shall brave the lunch ladies and buy you some food.”

     As Ronan stood to leave, Adam gripped his wrist, suddenly serious and not at all joking.

      “You’re not buying me lunch, Ronan. I don’t need you to buy me anything.” Ronan, not expecting the sudden change in tone, simply looked at Adam, who still hadn’t let go of his wrist. He seemed deadly serious about a couple bucks, just like when they were with Gansey and Noah at Nino’s.

     In that moment, Ronan realized one of his theories about Adam Parrish had rang true, He did not show off his money because he didn’t have a lot of money. Most people wouldn’t think twice about their friends (are they considered friends?) buying them a sandwich or something, but Adam Parrish- the boy who threw a fiver at Ronan when in a huge rush, the boy who cared so much about his work- was not like most boys that went to Aglionby. In fact, he was not like most boys at all. Money was significant to him, but not because of its value and ability to purchase things, it was the effort that he made to get and keep his money, regardless of how little it was he had. All in an instant, Ronan made this realization, and he saw Adam Parrish a little differently than before. He saw him with a great deal more respect than before, even as his bruised and battered face looked up at him with deadly serious eyes.

     “Well then, I’m just gonna buy myself some lunch, then,” Ronan said nonchalantly, pulling out of Adam’s grip and stuffing his hands into his pocket, where he discovered the fiver that Adam gave him before was still in his front pocket.

     He grinned to himself as he stolled back to the cafeteria doors, leaving Adam alone on the bench.

     …

     As he watched Ronan go, Adam wondered what the heck was going on. One second, he’s prepared to punch Ronan Lynch in the face, the next he’s sharing a bench with him and laughing. Whatever he expected from having Ronan Lynch around him, this was certainly not it. He had no clue how Ronan knew he was lying about his story. He told every teacher, every student, every inquisitive person the same exact story, Ronan being annoyingly present for every single retelling, reminding Adam to stick to his story. However, sticking to the story seemed to make Ronan more distrustful of Adam, and he didn’t understand. Maybe Ronan was just messing with him, but Adam highly doubted it, He somehow knows that what Adam is telling everyone about how he got so banged up is false, which is impossible. Adam could never let him know the truth, though. Even if Ronan lives his whole life knowing that Adam lied to him about this, he could never discover the whole truth about what happened. He would look as Adam differently, with judgement and the dreaded poorly-disguised pity. Adam could never take pity, especially from Ronan. No, telling him, or Noah- who already seemed to know so much- or Gansey- who became so heavily involved in everything- would end in disaster. This newly formed friendship- the first one he has made in Aglionby- cannot be put at risk by something like that, which doesn’t involve any of them. This was Adam’s problem alone, it has always been, and he would deal with it as such. Bringing them into it-

     “Yo.”

     Adam nearly jumped out of his skin as he was brought back into the present by someone poking the back of his neck with something. Turning around abruptly, Adam saw that it was none other than Ronan, back from the cafeteria, poking Adam with the back of a fork.

     “You zone out a lot, y’know,” Ronan yawned, “People probably avoid you because of how creepy you look.”

     “Thanks,” Adam muttered, still trying to lower his heart rate. Suddenly, he had something shoved in front of him. Out of instinct, Adam grabbed what was being given to him and looked down at it for a solid ten seconds without realizing what it was.

     A school lunch.

     “Ronan,” Adam started, looking to Ronan, who was currently chowing down on his own lunch, tin foil crinkled into a ball in his Styrofoam tray. Ronan looked over in a bored way, swallowing his sandwich and grunting in response. “I told you not to get me anything. I don’t want it, and I don’t need it.”

     Ronan simply looked at Adam carefully for a couple of seconds, then raised a brow knowingly.

     “For the pizza,” he said quietly, taking another bite of his sandwich unceremoniously.

     Adam sat dumbfounded at Ronan’s words. Then, it came back to him; that’s what he practically yelled at Ronan when he threw his fiver at him at Nino’s the other night. That felt significant and relevant, but he had no clue why. He sat and tried to piece together what that meant, to no avail.

      “Lynch, what the fuck are you talking about?” he responded with instead.

     Ronan took another bite of his sandwich and looked over the beautiful green fields of Aglionby as he chewed carefully and swallowed, keeping Adam in suspense for as long as he could.

     “Nothing. Just eat your damn sandwich before it goes to waste.”

     Still not looking over as Adam, Ronan waited for a response of some sort. After almost a full minute, Ronan heard the soft uncrinkling of the tin foil that covered the sandwich as Adam opened it.

     Ronan grinned to himself, hoping lunch would never end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a really horribly written chapter and I know it, but I just wanted to write something before I got back into plot as a kind of warm up. IDK tell me its bad in the comments if you want, or point out all of the errors because I didn't proof read and its 3 am.  
> RIP Blanche 2017


	11. Glasses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam and Ronan wait for their friends after school. 
> 
> SO SORRY FOR THE LONG AF HIATUS!!!! SCHOOL MURDERED ME!!!!
> 
> See notes for more

     At the end of the school day Adam found himself- once again- walking shoulder to shoulder with Ronan Lynch as they left their last period class. Ronan stuck true to his unspoken word and walked the halls with him to every class and glared at every Aglionby student (and teacher, for that manner) that looked at the pair of them oddly. As they made their way over to Gansey’s locker, Adam noticed that many people stopped looking at the pair of them at all. He didn’t know how Ronan did it, but he managed to intimidate every passing person enough with a mere glance to prevent them from paying them any mind. Between Adam’s currently battered appearance and his general discomfort with getting any sort of attention from Aglionby staff and students, he was grateful.

      Maybe he was thinking too much into things, but Adam noticed that as they left their last class together, Ronan switched places with Adam, consciously placing himself on Adam’s left, putting him closer to the center of the halls. It could have been a mindless act, but for a brief moment Adam considered that Ronan did that on purpose. But why though? To prevent anyone from looking at Adam? To shove Adam into a locker? To trip some passerby? For a moment, Adam mused that he did it to prevent Adam from getting jostled around too much by the students heading in the opposite direction. But he just as quickly shoved that thought out of his mind. God, maybe that medication Ronan gave him was making him delusional. He quickly shook himself out of his thoughts and forced himself to focus on the present.

      The two of them didn’t say anything as they walked down the halls, letting the commotion of the last bell to take over instead. Only as they reached Gansey’s locker did Ronan say anything.

     “Here,” he grunted, sticking his arm out in front of Adam. He looked up and Ronan patted the locker next to him, looking bored. “Guess they’re not here yet.”

     Adam hummed in response, then leaned against the locker next to Gansey’s. In all of his time at Aglionby, Adam never used his locker- he never even bothered looking for it. It’s not like he had much to carry, after all. He didn’t do crew like Gansey, he didn’t have a skateboard like Noah, and he certainly never had a varsity jacket like 80% of Aglionby did. Another prime example of how Adam did not fit in with the other boys who roamed these halls. Aglionby was either sports, or it was money. If a boy wasn’t great at sports, his parents always had enough money to keep him in good stance. If a family wasn’t as wealthy as some of the others, the boy could always make up for it by being a star athlete for the school. What did Adam have? A slightly more advanced intellect? Well, in a world like this one, it was starting to seem as if none of that mattered any-

     “Stop that.”

     Adam was jarred out of his spiraling thoughts abruptly by a kick to the foot from Ronan, who looked annoyed.

     “Stop what?” Adam scowled back at him.

     “I dunno,” Ronan shrugged. “Thinking so hard. I could feel you thinking from here, man. School’s over- no more thinking.”

     Adam snorted a little at that, wondering if that was truly Ronan Lynch’s logic.

     Adam glanced over Ronan’s shoulder down the still-crowded hallway, then down back the other way, looking for a sign of Gansey and Noah. Turning up empty, Adam leaned back against the lockers and sighed deeply, thinking about how early he was going to need to leave to get to work on time with his busted ribs. Just thinking about riding his bike made him want to be sick.

     Just as Adam was about to zone out again, Ronan nudged him with his elbow to get his attention. When Adam looked up at him, he had one of his mischievous smirks on his face. He was looking at the packs of boys passing in both directions, but he looked back down at Adam when Adam looked up and poked the bridge of his nose, dragging his finger up until it was between his eyes, like he was adjusting a pair of invisible glasses. With a little confusion, Adam looked into the crowds and noticed, much to his amusement, that many of these Aglionby boys who walked by shared a similar taste in eyeglasses. Large, black-rimmed Ray-Bans littered the crowd, worn by many boys in perhaps an effort to look more mature than they acted. Or maybe just to show off their money, who knows. Adam was doubtful that most of these boys even had a prescription that needed correcting; these glasses were more likely all for style. Just from first glance, Adam counted 6 boys who walked by with these same eyeglasses. With his back still against it, Adam reached back and tapped on the locker 6 times, feeling a grin forming on his face.

     Chancing a glance up at Ronan, he found the other smirking down at him, then he looked away to scan the crowd again. A single tap on Gansey’s locker signified Ronan's retaliation and the start of their small game.

     For a decent amount of time, while the crowd thinned out, the two of them played this game, waiting for their friends. Adam was half enjoying himself, but he was also half horrified over how many boys at Aglionby were carbon copies of each other. It wasn’t only the glasses anymore; many of these boys shared the same haircut, bookbags, phones, and even watches- all the most expensive version on the market, as expected. He was horrified that this was his first time noticing this phenomenon when these boys did not try to hide this fact. Rather, they continuously flaunted their watches or attempted to fix their already-perfect hair, seeking nothing else but attention and envy.

     Ronan must have been thinking the same thing, because he muttered to Adam, “Welcome to the Twilight Zone.”

     Adam wheezed at this, his ribs only throbbing slightly from the action, then went back to glasses hunting, determined to be the last one to find another before the others got there. Ronan arched his neck to look down the hall one way and Adam turned to look the other way, and was met with another pair of glasses. Triumphantly, Adam tapped on his locker, getting Ronan’s attention. The glasses weren’t exactly the black-rimmed kind that the others wore; these were clear-rimmed but were bigger than the others as if to make up for this fact. As they both watched the pair of glasses get closer, they noticed that they were walking toward Adam and Ronan. Finally, the glasses approached the two of them and came to a halt in front of them.

     “Sorry that took so long! Mr. Peterson wanted to ask about my mother’s campaign, and then we got into- “

     The rest of whatever Gansey was trying to tell them was drowned out by Adam and Ronan dissolving into laughter as they realized that their friend was part of their game; after all, Richard Gansey III was the most prime example of a typical Aglionby boy there was. Gansey stood in front of them, utterly confused, as Adam curled in on himself in breathy laughter, and Ronan barked out a laugh that devolved into snickers.

     Noah, gone unnoticed until now, poked his head from behind Gansey’s shoulder to look at the two in front of him, then smiled knowingly.

     “Seems like they’ve become friends.”

     This sobered Adam up immediately. Friends? Could he really think of these boys are friends? He couldn’t tell them anything about himself, and he barely knew anything about them. Is that really friendship? Or was this the starting point?

     Glancing over at Ronan, who had also sobered up but still had a half-smirk on his face, Adam thought to himself that he was willing to believe it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was to remind all of y'all that I'm not dead and I haven't given up on this fic!
> 
> I've recently had some time lately, but I dunno how long it'll last so I'll write as much as I can while I can. 
> 
> This was a really dumb, really short chapter that contributed literally nothing the the plot. Definetly not my best chapter so far, I'm way out of practice. I just wanted to let you guys know that more plot is coming, so no worries! This fic is alive and well (define well)

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I care more about comments than kudos please tell me what you think!


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